If I Could Breathe
by Cait Mur
Summary: Following the fall of the prison with no hope to go back to, Beth and Daryl head south. They run into a man who claims he knows of a safe island, free of walkers, and leaves them a map of how to find it, before killing himself. Based loosely on the premise of "The Beach," join Beth and Daryl on an adventure to paradise. Or is it…? Rated M for violence, language and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1 - The Map

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 1 - The Map

* * *

He'd never driven a speedboat before.

The only boats he knew were the small kinds. Little paddle boats. Little measly sanded down wooden boxes that floated out on lakes with no waves. His experiences on them were to throw out a line, catch a pathetic little fish that was so small you were sort of a dick if you didn't throw it back. Maybe chug a beer. Paddle back a little buzzed. Rinse, repeat. It's what every redneck in Georgia did on a sunny Sunday morning.

But this? Fuck, this was nothing like that. The waves. The wind. The smell of the salt water surrounding them in every direction. Map in his hand, long, greasy strands of his hair flapping in the wind, Daryl Dixon felt like a _motherfucking_ pirate. Hell, maybe even a _captain_. He chuckled at the thought. All he was missing was the hat.

The map. The map had started all of this for them; a tiny beacon of hope in the dismal fucked up world they had finally come to terms with living in.

It had been four months since the prison had fallen, Beth was pretty sure of it. She said she'd been keeping track in that little journal of hers - tally marks for all the days, a cross through each week. Daryl was sure they were in the winter months by now, but wherever they were in the world, winter didn't matter anymore. They'd made it to a place that was just warm _all the time_.

Sure, Georgia was warm for the most part, even in the winter. Daryl could count on his fingers how many times he'd actually ever _seen_ snow, but it was never warm like this. Georgia was hot like the depths of hell. This place was pleasantly warm. Paradise warm. The kind of warm people traveled thousands of miles to get to. And they were here. And it made things slightly better.

Slightly.

They'd spent two months in Georgia, just looking. Walking in circles, Daryl was sure of it. But she had wanted to look, and Daryl had let her. He wasn't going to tell the poor girl _no_ for god's sake, truth be told he had wanted to look too. But after they'd seen Glenn's message to get Maggie to go to Terminus and then found the whole place blown apart, she'd sort of given up hope. And he sure as hell didn't blame her.

So then, she wanted to go south, and they spent a good month in transit, hoping that was the direction everyone else went in. They followed the roads, until they couldn't anymore. They'd reached the Gulf somewhere in the southern tip of Florida, and settled themselves into a small house near the water.

It'd had the potential to be a home, just like the prison. They had food and blankets and even a gas stove, but a hurricane had moved right on through after just a week or two - thanks a fuckton _Mother Nature -_ and the roof blew right off the place and that had shattered Beth's little heart into even smaller pieces.

After that, Daryl stopped knowing what to do or what to say to her. He was sure she'd rip open those wounds on her ghostly pale wrists again. They just couldn't seem to hold anything together. The rug was always being ripped out from underneath their feet.

But then, as if on cue, as if the universe knew they might not make it any further without anything good, they'd met _him_. The nameless man at the marina. It had been Beth's idea to look through the boats. See what they could scavenge. Find a yacht maybe. Pretend life wasn't as shitty as it really was. Maybe find some more booze, Daryl thought, cheer the girl up.

Instead, they found him.

He was sunburnt, badly. His large, crooked nose was beet red and peeling - same with his shoulders and back. Barefoot and dressed in a loose, torn tank-top and shorts, he sat on the edge of the dock, his legs swinging over the water, bumping into the boat next to him. It seemed to be the only one still in relatively in tact.

He was alone and unthreatening, drinking straight from the rum bottle Daryl had, in his mind, intended for his companion. They came upon him together, Daryl in front of Beth, always protecting, carefully approaching.

"Ya'll should work on your stalking skills," the man slurred, not turning to look at them.

"We're not lookin' for any trouble," Daryl said immediately, knowing there was a fifty fifty shot things would go to shit. Well, maybe sixty, forty, with their luck. "Just for some food."

The man looked over his shoulder at them. What a pair they must have looked like - malnourished and tired, dirty and greasy and _so_ fucking angry. They probably looked like walkers themselves. "This is my boat," he announced, motioning towards the vessel he was kicking. "You want it?"

He could feel Beth look at him, but he didn't return the gaze. "Why?" Daryl asked. His words sounded as curious as he felt.

"Don't have a use for it no more," the man replied with a sigh. He took another swig from his bottle. "Ya'll look pretty roughed up. Maybe you can use a pick-me-up."

"Do you have food?" Beth asked pathetically, sounding smaller than she actually was. She was pleading. He hated that she was. It meant, inadvertently, that he couldn't provide.

"On the boat. A few cans of old things I never got around to eatin'," the man answered, looking away from them again. Beth stayed stark still next to him, though he could practically hear her stomach growl from where he stood. Apprehension seethed through the air. Good girl, he thought. "Don't worry," the man continued, his words slurring together. "I'm in no position to be tryin' anythin' funny with you two. It's just me, you know. And this is _my_ boat."

"Where are you from?" Beth asked kindly, this time, taking a step forward. Daryl took the same step with her, instinctually. They might have been one person at this point, they were so in sync. To an outsider, perhaps it would seem odd, but their intuitions about each other had been pertinent to their very survival.

"An island," the man replied. "A safe one. None of those monsters you see on the mainland. Nope. Not one. Not one of those _fuckers._ That place is safe. And it's not very far from here."

Beth gazed at him again and this time Daryl returned it. Her eyes were wide, but that brightness he'd seen them hold before was gone. It had been for quite some time now. He tried to remember what she had looked like with it. The little sparkle.

"And you can get there on your boat?" Beth asked, not breaking her gaze with Daryl. They'd been together so long, they could practically communicate without words.

"If you want to. I've left. And I can't go back. But you can. You can. You can go," he said urgently, the words sounding fluid in his stupor. The bottle suddenly slipped out of his hands and some of the rum splashed across the wood of the dock giving off a powerful smell that made Daryl's stomach churn. "Oh no," the man moaned, picking it up delicately. He looked at the liquor longingly. There was just enough for one last sip inside of the bottle.

The man stood up then, bottle in his hand and faced them both, his eyes narrowed in a squint. Daryl studied him. He couldn't have been much older than he was, late thirties or early forties, but the world. God, the world had done a number on him. The world had done a number on them all. He had olive skin that had been burnt to shit by the sun. His full beard was dark, gray peaking through at the ends, just like Daryl's. Besides his sad green eyes, Daryl could have been looking in a mirror.

"Y'know, it's funny. I drew a map. Left it inside the boat for someone else to find. Someone stronger than me. I didn't know you were coming, but here you are." He let a small chuckle go. Daryl and Beth stayed rooted to their spots.

"This place, the island," the man said, pausing in thought for a minute, "It's happiness. But happiness is just a moment before you want more happiness, you know?"

He looked at them, his face melting into a sad frown. So sad, Daryl almost felt like he could cry himself, but panic overtook him in an instant when he saw the gun being pulled from the man's pocket.

"Fuck man!" Daryl jumped in front of Beth who squealed in surprise, probably not even seeing the gun in his hands. "I told you, we don't mean no—"

A shot rang out, before Daryl could even finish his sentence, before his eyes could really focus on this man and what he had done. Beth's hand was gripped tightly around on his arm and her head was peeking out from beside him and she gave a sharp gasp. He was short on breath too, despite himself, staring at the mess in front of him.

When someone blows their brains out, it's never clean. Getting shot in general is just messy business, but brains? Fucking forget it. The head had been blown apart, skin burnt through by the force of the bullet, back of the cranium completely exposed. The blow had pushed him backwards on the dock, laid on his back, eyes still open towards the sky.

Behind him, a sea of red spilled across the wood, through the cracks and into the water beneath with loud, sticky drips. The brains had exited the back of the skull and were strewn in a gruesome masterpiece behind his body. And that was that. The man was gone.

She was crying. She always did. It reminded him that at least one of them had some sort of a conscious, some sort of humanity left inside of them. She might have lost that brightness, but she still hung on to piece of the world they'd left behind. And Daryl needed her to remind him that they still had it.

"The boat," Daryl managed to mumble. "Get on the boat, Beth."

She obeyed, steadying herself on a post of the dock to climb aboard the _Majestic Queen III_ , a stupid name for a boat, really. Daryl did his due diligence to push the body _sans brain_ , into the water, so it could float away or get picked apart by fish. And then, he climbed the boat himself, settling comfortably in the drivers seat behind the oversized steering wheel.

Beth had disappeared below the deck, but peeked her head up at him as she heard him climb aboard, a small hint of a smile on her face. It looked strange on her face. She hadn't even taken the time to wipe the tears she'd cried away yet. Was it relief? He hadn't seen her smile in days, maybe even weeks now so when he looked at her, the muscles in his cheeks unwillingly tugged his own lips upwards too. A grin. He was grinning. What the fuck. He'd just kicked a dead body off a dock, and he was grinning. He should have been puking or yelling or crying but he was grinning and he very quickly came to terms with it. It was just who he was now.

In between her fingers, she held a small piece of paper. Her outstretched arm held it towards Daryl and he stared at it, before realizing the man had been telling the truth.

"It's a map," she said simply. "It's a shitty map. But still a map."

He took it from her, his eyes scanning every inch of the page. It was a map alright, drawn by hand. But it showed where they were, what the coast looked like, somewhat decent coordinates to where this so called safe island could be found.

"There's also this," Beth said, so he looked up over the paper he was holding, at her. The grin was still there, her cheeks rising up a little bit. She'd been sad for so long that even the slightest hint of a smile completely changed her face. She was holding a few tin cans of tuna fish.

Folding the map, he grabbed one of the cans, tugging at the pop top and peeling it open. The tuna had a sour smell to it, but he couldn't have cared any less as he took the entire hunk of meat and shoved it into his mouth. Beth did the same, coming onto the main deck and sitting on the floor, legs crossed.

Beth had been his companion for what seemed like years. Four months in this world was practically a lifetime. They'd survived together. She'd saved him as much as he'd saved her. Kept him grounded. They'd needed each other. In fact, it was hard to think about what he'd do without her. It was the highest level of companionship he'd ever felt for anyone, ever. And despite how well they'd survived in this world, they just hadn't had any time to breathe.

When they finished their meals, Daryl and Beth sat on the boat staring at each other. The waves were mellow, crashing against the sides, moving them slowly from side to side. Rocking, he supposed.

"So?" she asked him, looking at the map he'd put underneath one of his legs so it wouldn't blow away.

"So what?" he asked her curiously.

"Are we going?"

"Going where?" He knew the answer before he even asked the question.

"To the island."

He thought about it for a minute. Exploring on the boat didn't seem like a terrible idea, that was, if they had gas in it of course. He looked at the dashboard, the key still in the ignition. Of course it was. He glanced at the gas meter. Full.

"What's the worst that could happen?" she asked, echoing his thoughts.

He shrugged.

"Daryl?"

He looked up at her. "Okay," he said very quietly.

"Okay, as in, let's go?" She'd raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "What's the harm, right?"

"We've literally lost everything," she said. Then after a brief pause, "Everything."

And she was right. They had lost everything. Everything a person could lose, they had lost it, and more.

He looked at her, then back down at the map. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Ooh, I'm so excited about this one guys! Hope you all like it. Inspired by my island adventure in Aruba and loosely based off the movie (and book, though I haven't read it), "The Beach". Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far!_

 _"Happiness is just a moment before you want more happiness" - Don Draper, Mad Men_


	2. Chapter 2 - The Boat

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter Two - The Boat

* * *

She felt pretty fucking stupid wearing the life vest, but Daryl had insisted on it. Apparently he'd never driven a boat like this before.

The thing was atrocious. Bright orange, smelling of strongly of mildew, wrapped around her neck like a chokehold. She sat on one of the boat's small seats as Daryl drove them off into the sun. Could have been the cover of a _damn romance novel_ , but it was more like a pathetic, horrific, downright depressing tragedy.

The wind was sharp against her skin, so forceful from the speed of the boat that it was hard for Beth to see him without squinting. He was focused, his eyes narrowed at the water as he drove, map in his hand. He looked…determined. Like he had a purpose, other than trying to keep them both alive. He'd been missing that determination for quite some time now.

Daryl had been her only companion since everything had happened at the prison and they'd been through a lot. Well, that was putting it lightly. They'd been through hell, back and straight down into hell again. But they'd made it, she supposed. Together. Though often times, she sometimes laid awake at night wondering what "made it" actually meant.

He'd been right, that afternoon he'd yelled at her, after it all happened. Everyone they knew was probably dead, or might as well be because they searched high and low until there was nothing left to search. The disappointment of finding nothing was bad, but the emptiness that came with losing all of those people ate away at her slowly. For a while it felt like her heart actually physically ached beneath her rib cage. She sometimes wondered if it would just stop beating all together.

But she _did_ have Daryl and he proved to be a faithful and trustworthy companion. They became family to each other. Everything that Daddy and Maggie and Michonne and Carl and Judith and Carol had been to her, Daryl became that. Because there was no one else.

They'd ran away from Georgia. Away from those memories and all those dead ends. Hope had died there and they both needed to get away from it. Down here, by the water, it was calm, warm, and empty. The ocean did something to you - made you feel small. Made you feel _alive_.

The little house on the beach, seemingly at the edge of the world, seemed perfect. But there, the night before the roof blew off the damn place, Beth did something extremely stupid. If she'd been thinking straight, she told herself, she wouldn't have done it. But she'd been lonely and sad and wanted to feel close to another human being. So she'd kissed him, softly, on his cheek at first, trailing down to his jaw.

He hadn't moved. He hadn't really done anything other than just sit there, still as ever, concentrating on his breathing. She kept her eyes on him, but he stared straight ahead, nervous and slightly trembling. Or maybe she'd imagined that part. She wasn't sure. Daryl Dixon smelled like _man,_ sweaty and musky, the coarse, patchy hair growing from his face, feeling foreign to her.

She'd nuzzled her nose into his cheek, wanting him to react, wanting him to sweep her up in his arms and make love to her. It wouldn't solve anything, but maybe, just maybe, it would fill that gaping hole in her chest that still felt so wide open. At least for a little bit.

So she'd moved to his lips then, watching him all the while and at first it seemed like he might close his mouth over hers and open her lips with his tongue, but when she'd moved her body over his, he'd pushed her away. Turned his head and muttered something about their _bullshit_ age difference. How she was like family to him. How he didn't want to disrupt what they had together.

She'd shrugged it off, sitting back on her knees, feeling dumb and empty and small. Feeling _naive_. She wanted to wallow in her self-pity, maybe take a day to herself without him, but that night the hurricane plowed through what they were trying to salvage as a home, and they hadn't talked about it since.

Truth be told, Beth didn't want to talk about it anyhow.

And now, they were here. On this boat. Driving across the water towards some island that might not even exist. It was comical. But also sort of necessary. They had to take this chance, because, for fucks sake, they both needed a god damn rest.

Beth did her part to explore underneath the deck. There was a small bathroom and a couple of seats, a bed, some empty cabinets. She'd found a few spare cans of tuna which they'd inhaled almost immediately. They had enough food to last them for barely a day. No tools. No fishing equipment. Not even a flashlight. Fucking useless.

She sat on the bed, a headache on the horizon, feeling the boat bump up abruptly against each wave it met. She thought about what they were doing for a minute, what the outcome might be. It had been an impulsive decision, she knew, but everything they had been through before had felt necessary. And this sort of felt like an adventure. She had mistaken the flutters in her belly before just for her being hungry, but now she realized she was actually _excited_. And she couldn't remember the last time she had felt that way.

She climbed out onto the deck, just as the sun began to hang low in the sky, creating a portrait of yellows and oranges and pinks and purples, signaling it was almost time for them to find some cover, Beth's excitement suddenly turned to uneasiness. She waited, sitting back in one of the seats, listening to the roar of the engine, thinking Daryl might be looking for somewhere safe to dock, until the sky was a rich purple fading into black.

What was he doing?

"Daryl," Beth yelled frantically through the wind as she felt him slow the boat against the waves. "We need to dock somewhere. Lay low until the sun comes up again."

He looked over his shoulder at her and shook his head forcefully. "We've got to almost be there," he yelled back at her. "I think we're only a few minutes away. We can make it."

Normally she trusted him, but uneasiness was washing over her. She broke into a sweat. Maybe it was the tuna, she convinced herself. She looked away from him and back out at their surroundings. They seemed to be getting further and further away from the coast and that, she thought, seemed awfully dangerous. She squinted to see the land in the distance. Wait, was it land, or just a shadow?

She turned to ask Daryl how far they'd gotten from the coast while she'd been below deck. He turned his head to answer but instead of watching him she was momentarily distracted as the sun popped below the horizon, disappearing from view.

She cupped her hand to her mouth. "What?" she yelled against the thunder of the wind at Daryl, not hearing how he'd responded.

And she never did hear his response, because at that moment when he turned to answer, something swiped against the left side of the boat, smashing into the metal, carving into the side of it like a cheese grater, pulling the port side away effortlessly. The sound of it invaded her ears, straight into her eardrums - a painful noise that embedded into her brain, even for weeks after the crash.

Beth's gaze lifted away from Daryl as she peered over towards the side of the boat that was no longer there. They hit another bump, this time beneath them, and the next thing she knew, the floor under her feet split in two, then disappeared completely and she lost her balance, her body falling sideways into the opening. She screamed, knowing it wouldn't help a thing, reaching out her hands to grasp onto something - anything, but her fingertips closed on sharp metal that tore her flesh on contact.

If she winced or felt pain, it was gone the minute her body met the water. She hit it hard, unable to take a breath before she sunk, like a rock, underneath the water, something heavy hitting her square in the back, crushing her spine, forcing the rest of her breath out of her lungs.

She inhaled sharply with instinct, expecting air but inhaling water, filling her mouth, her throat, her lungs. And it was all _wrong_. Immediately, instantly, wrong. Pain soared through her chest as she tried to breathe, but nothing around her was working the way she needed it to.

Her eyes shot open and her arms were moving, trying to push the salt water down below her as her body strained against the foreign substance in its lungs. She panicked. She was going to die, she was sure of it in this very moment. _This_ was what drowning felt like and it was terrifying and painful.

She struggled, trying to propel herself above the water, to reach air, but everything was black. Everything. The water below, the water above, and to every side of her and for a moment she wasn't sure which direction she was swimming in.

Until finally. _Finally_ , she hit the surface. The water broke through marvelously at the tips of her fingers and the vest and her head made it through, the air smacking her in the face painfully. Beth coughed and spat and dry-heaved until she could get enough air back in her nostrils, back through her throat and into her lungs where she felt like she wasn't going to drown.

She was still flailing - her arms moving in an attempt at a panicked paddle, but the fucking life vest around her neck tugged her head upwards without her even trying. It had saved her, no doubt, and she took a deep breath with the thought. Daryl had _made_ her wear the stupid thing.

The world slowly swam into view as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her surroundings. The sea looked endless, almost black without the sun to illuminate it. As she glanced across the ripples in the water that surrounded her, she saw a few metal pieces scattered about.

A hunk of crushed metal in the distance was sure to be what remained of their boat, overturned and completely useless now. Beth's momentary relief at still being alive then disappeared at the realization that Daryl was nowhere to be found around her.

"Daryl?" she croaked in a whisper, unable to speak from the water that had invaded her windpipe. She turned herself in the water, looking in every direction, feeling incredibly disoriented.

She floated for a moment, waves lapping at her shoulders, the air suddenly still, suddenly silent. How odd it sounded after the world had been so loud, to hear all of the ripples of the water around her.

The boots she wore were getting heavy, the water tugging them down, and she found that she did need to keep a small paddle going, even though she had the life vest on to keep afloat. She needed to get to some kind of shore. The dark around her taunted her and she very quickly thought of all of the shark-attack movies she'd ever seen in her lifetime.

She kicked, suddenly afraid, thrashing in the water and swimming towards what she thought might be the shore in the distance. Beth hit solid ground much faster than she'd thought she would, crashing into a slippery rock covered with seaweed, the tips of her toes meeting the ocean floor. She followed it up to the water's end and climbed, still gasping for breaths, out of the water.

The dark was abundant and she could only imagine what she looked like at that moment, sopping wet, struggling to keep air inside her body. Her legs collapsed beneath her as she sat in the sand she'd arrived on, moist from the high tide earlier that day.

"Daryl?" she tried again, a pathetic shout that wouldn't reach the waves she'd just climbed out of. She sucked in air again, realizing she was crying and hating herself for it. What good did crying do anyone anymore? Crying for Daryl wouldn't make him climb out of the water.

But she cried anyway, devastated that after everything they'd been through, he might be gone. He might really, actually be gone. At this moment in time, she might be alone. The thought consumed her, and she didn't know what to do with it.

Immediately, she thought she'd swim out to the wreckage, try to find him and pull him to the surface, but without enough air, without enough strength, all she could do was sit, heaving, on the beach, staring helplessly out into the black sea.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Guys! Thanks for the follows, favs and of course reviews on my first chapter! Really excited for this one and I hope you all enjoy it. For those following my other stories - Don't You Remember has finally be completed (check it out!), and new updates are coming for Graduate and Forbidden._

 _Please leave a review if you're liking this so far. I need a little reassurance! And, as always, don't forget to follow me on Twitter camurray4688 and Tumblr caitlinwritesstuff._


	3. Chapter 3 - The Island

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter Three - The Island

* * *

 _He felt her beside him and froze. She was close. Too close. He could smell her, sweaty and fragrant; feel her breathing. And then, the softest touch to his cheek. Those were her lips, he realized, stiffening._

 _His heart was pounding uncomfortably, threatening to break out of his chest as she trailed her lips down to his jaw. She was kissing him. And he could feel every breath she took._

 _This was wrong, but oh fuck, it felt so good. It had been a long time since he'd been touched like this. A jolt, deep in his belly signaled the excitement threatening to grow in his pants and suddenly she was on his lips and he felt her, all of her, climb on top of him. She was so little. So light. Gentle. He hesitated, wanting her like nothing else he'd ever wanted, but instead he pulled away and looked at her._

 _God, she was beautiful. That golden hair and milky skin, freckled little nose, lust in her eyes - for him. She wanted him. And he wanted her too._

 _So, what the fuck was he doing?_

 _He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?_

* * *

The pain woke him. Snapped him out of his confused memory and brought him back to life and his lungs were going to burst because he was still underwater, unable to breathe.

He forced his eyes open, seeing nothing but darkness. Gathering all of the strength in his upper body that he could muster, he pushed himself up, through the debris that was still falling from the boat he'd just _fucking_ crashed and even though he wasn't sure if he was going to make it to the surface in time to see another day, he shook his head at himself in frustration.

The surface did come, after what felt like eternity, and he broke through, sucking in deep breaths of sweet, sweet air in huge gasps. He coughed, his chest feeling like it could burst as he paddled. They hadn't brought much on the boat - their weapons and the few measly cans of food were all they really had to their name.

And the map. Fuck. Well, that was surely gone now.

All this, for nothing.

He let the disappointment of his observation fade away as his vision adjusted to the night sky. It was cloudy, giving off the illusion that he was lost in a sea of black without the moon to illuminate the world around him. He squinted in the distance looking for any sign of another body in the water.

"Beth?" he tried to yell, his voice coming out in a pathetic grunt. There was no answer.

Rationally, he knew she couldn't have gone far and she had that damn life vest on, he was still panicking. He had watched her fall seconds before he had; before it all went black. She could be anywhere, he supposed.

Daryl tried not to panic. He needed to stay levelheaded. Panicking would only make it harder for him and Beth to stay alive.

 _So think_ , he instructed himself.

He had taken them away from the coast, getting closer to what he hoped would be the island, but they were still a ways off. There was nothing around him now, spare the boat which was a useless, sinking hunk of metal now. But they'd hit rocks, or something low to the ocean floor that had caused the crash. So he swam towards the large debris in the water.

Relief flooded him when he heard her, before his feet even hit the sand beneath him, his arms propelling him forward like he was reaching out for her. She was there, alive and he needed to get to her. The ocean floor came underneath his feet quickly and he stumbled as he came out of the water, every inch of him soaking wet, his clothes and shoes and socks weighing him down

She was sobbing, like she was going to fall apart. Her voice was hollow and horse, sad with an edge of melody to it. Almost like she was singing. When she came into view, he could have sworn he was looking at a ghost. Her skin was whiter than the sand she sat upon, so white she almost looked transparent although she was shrouded in shadow. Her skin was hanging off her bones and it was only then that he realized how completely malnourished she (and most likely he) looked.

"Beth." His throat was on fire as he said her name, but she looked up with those wide blue eyes, relief swimming through them as she got to her feet, flinging herself towards him.

He caught her, arms around her waist, hers around his neck and she cried into him, soaking wet herself, hair sticking to her face as she all but crumbled in his arms. He collapsed, his arms still around her, into the sand and they sat for a few minutes with nothing but the sound of the ocean crashing into the shore at their toes and Beth's sobs echoing into the distance.

* * *

They'd explored the small piece of land they'd arrived on which was only about fifty feet long in any direction and empty of pretty much everything except large, black rocks and sand. Fine for the night, but they couldn't stay here any longer than that. With the moon high in the sky beneath the clouds, the sea was already coming in at high tide so they could at least get some shut eye for a few hours before they decided what their next move was.

Stripped to her underwear, Beth was curled up against a rock, trying to nestle into the sand for warmth. Daryl sat next to her in a pair of boxer briefs, his knees to his chest. The air was warm, but he felt cold and exposed nonetheless.

Seeing Beth without her shirt, jeans or shoes made him feel even worse. Her body was starving and it was all his fault. He would find her food tomorrow, if it was the last thing he did. At least catch a damn fish for her to eat. She looked like she was withering away.

"Daryl," she said from her position on the ground, not looking at him.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Are you going to sleep?" she asked. Her eyes were closed. She was exhausted.

"Yes," he answered.

"Lie with me?" she said, uncertainly. If things had been how they were before the turn, or even if they were at the prison, or if it had been any other woman than Beth, it would have come across as forward. Flirty. Borderline inappropriate. But this was _their_ normal. Part of their survival. Part of being a team.

"'Course," he answered delicately, lying himself in the sand, feeling it make way beneath him for his body and he curled himself around her small, bony frame, wrapping an arm around her. She grasped him and before even a moment had passed, her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep.

His body was exhausted, but the clouds had parted above him and he looked towards the blackness above them. Beth shifted beside him as he gazed up towards the sky, feeling small and cold and inadequate. They were still so far removed from what they'd been through, but his feelings had followed him. And he hated them.

He thought of Beth. What they'd been through. How she'd kissed him only days ago. They hadn't talked about it. Truth was, he wasn't sure what he'd say. He'd made it clear in the moment that she was _too young_ and _too much like family_ for them to try something like this. But the truth was, he was terrified of her.

She was the only person he could ever see himself being intimate with. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, long before the turn had happened, and nothing had ever meant much to Daryl. But things had changed and life was precious and Beth was a treasure he didn't deserve.

Rationale told him here was nothing holding him back from this. He loved Beth as much as he knew how, so what was stopping him from kissing her, other than fear? And fear was such a stupid thing to have in the life they were living right now.

He didn't know what stopped him from kissing her back. Only that he regretted it. He'd thought that regret would fade as the days wore on. Things might go back to normal, or something. But they didn't. The regret only got worse.

* * *

He slept, despite his wandering mind, succumbing to exhaustion. The next day came quickly, daylight peeking over the horizon, slowly, to wake them. Beth was still beside him, still in her underwear, but sitting up, her spine protruding from her back.

As he stirred, she looked over her shoulder. Tired and weak and sad, but still beautiful. She would always be beautiful.

"Mornin' Daryl," she greeted him. "You see this sunrise?"

His body ached from the way he'd slept. Sore back, numb arm and a mouth full of sand, but he sat up anyway, hunched forward and Beth laid her head against his arm. It felt routine. Normal. They'd survived something together, again.

The sky was beautiful, a rich orange pink color that filled out the cloudless sky in every direction you looked. The sun was just about to come up over the horizon and they sat to watch it. It was a moment Daryl realized he'd want to remember. The feeling of being relatively safe, of being able to relax for a moment. Of being able to _breathe_.

And then, she pointed to the left of them, in the distance was an unmistakable large slab of land that was the place Daryl had been looking for as the sun was setting yesterday. That was it. That was the island.

* * *

The pair had breakfast - a few small fish Daryl had been able to catch, and now they stood at the edge of the water, staring at the island in the distance. It looked larger than he'd expected, and long. The land had been hidden in shadow the night before and they hadn't seen it from where they were.

Now, they were dressed in their clothes, pants rolled up, shoes tied to their belt loops, standing side by side, staring at it as if they could explore it from where they were.

"It looks like it's a little over a mile away," Beth observed, looking up at Daryl.

He stared at the hunk of rock in the middle of the ocean. He wasn't good at estimating this kind of thing, but it looked fucking far. "It looks far," he replied, stating the obvious. He looked at her then, how small and frail she looked. "We don't have a lot of strength left in us."

"Well, we don't have much of an option Daryl," she said, sounding deflated, looking back towards the water. "We can make it. We _have_ to make it."

"If it's too far, we'll drown," he said simply, although he knew she was right. There was no other option for them. They couldn't stay on this tiny island and there was no way to return from where they'd come. They needed to get to somewhere with shelter and food and drinkable water. For starters, at least.

He looked back at the island, thinking this might not have been so great of an idea after all.

She was watching him think. "We have to go," she said with a shrug. "So let's go."

And with that, she dove into the water and started to swim.

He grinned, shoving his thoughts away, diving in after her. Daryl was a decent swimmer, he supposed. Not that he did it often, but he certainly knew how to. He was surprised by Beth's tenacity and strokes through the water. Although he was larger than her, he had to fight a bit to keep up with her in the water.

Time ticked by and as he pulled himself forward with each stroke, he could feel the space for air in his lungs get shorter and shorter. It was terrifying, to say the least, but when he looked up at his destination, it was definitely within reach. The sun had moved and was pouring over their backs, but the water was warm and calm and clear and he knew they'd make it there without drowning.

As the island came closer, Daryl could see the outline of a white beach - _sanctuary_. He grinned when he saw it, and Beth paused mid-swim to look back at him to point at the land.

"We're almost there!" she said breathlessly, her head bobbing up and down in the water and he nodded in agreement.

They kept swimming, the last leg of their journey. A burst of energy came over both of them as they sped towards the beach, motivated by the closeness of it.

Finally, the shore came and Daryl and Beth both collapsed to their knees in the sand, heaving and struggling to catch air.

"We made it," Daryl managed to make out to his companion, reaching out for her.

She gripped his hand and squeezed it. "We made it," she repeated, closing her eyes.

* * *

After regaining their strength, they took in their surroundings. On the perimeter of the beach where they'd arrived was a thick layer of trees. They decided to look through there first. If nothing else, it would provide some shade from the sun which was beginning to get hot.

The exertion and the heat of the day was starting to take a toll on their bodies as they made their way through, tackling the brush and overgrown bushes that grew from the land. If Daryl and Beth thought they'd experienced nature before, it was nothing like this.

The ground was soft beneath their feet, making it difficult to walk properly. Thick branches stuck in their hair, leaves and twigs smacking them in the face, thorns scraping any open flesh, sand making its way into _every_ crack and crevice, until finally, they broke through the other side of the trees.

What they landed upon was a field of crops - rows and rows of greenery and vegetables and fruits. It was a cornucopia of food that they were staring at, rows and rows of edible things. They stopped at the tree line, just staring out into what had to be multiple acres of land. Over his shoulder, he met Beth's gaze, her jaw open wide in disbelief.

"Daryl?" she said his name breathlessly.

"Yeah?" he answered, sounding just as breathless.

"Is this real?" She fumbled for his arm and squeezed it, as if to make sure she was awake.

"Yeah," he replied. "I think it is."

Beth squealed with delight as she let herself waltz through the dirt, admiring the handiwork of the crops that were growing, and had been growing, for quite some time. She picked a tomato off of a vine and took a bite, as though it were an apple.

Daryl grinned as he watched her, dancing, like things were going to be okay, like they hadn't lost everything, happy, that for the moment, there would be something to eat. And Daryl was happy too, although he knew, that with crops, came people who tended and protected them.

So he searched the perimeter, observing the corners of the field, finding the the air around him deathly quiet, spare the singing birds in the distance. Nature still thrived around them even though the world had gone to shit.

The path he followed was obstructed by what looked like thick tree branches, but as he came closer Daryl realized, breaking out into a cold sweat, that they were human legs. Traveling up them, he found a person, lying, baking in the sun with an automatic weapon at his side.

He gasped, not meaning to, terror overtaking him. He looked back out towards the field at Beth, still admiring the crops and darted towards her to take cover.

As he did that, he saw others emerge from the surrounding forest, all armed, and, he assumed, all extremely dangerous. Beth and Daryl had survived, sure. But here, now - they'd left everything behind. Weapons lost, strength diminished. They were weak, easy prey now.

He found Beth and pulled her down to her knees, signaling her to be quiet with a finger to his lips. Her eyes - the sparkle, it had almost, _almost_ come back, but it was gone in an instant with Daryl's new revelation. The forest wasn't far, so on their bellies in an army crawl, they crawled back towards cover.

* * *

 **A/N:** Guys! Thanks so much for the follows, favs and reviews on my newest story! Hope you're all enjoying this adventure so far. Things are about to get a bit more interesting for Beth and Daryl…let's see where this island takes them!

As always, follow me on Twitter camurray4688 and Tumblr caitlinwritesstuff


	4. Chapter 4 - The Community

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter Four - The Community

* * *

She'd inhaled dirt as they were crawling and held in a cough, terrified. She was always terrified. It was a constant feeling. Her new normal, she supposed. When she had a minute to be calm or a minute to breathe, it almost felt unsettling. It was just the way life was now.

They'd made it to their feet, in the depths of the trees, following them away from the armed men. Beth was in front of Daryl, running, trying not to trip over the branches in front of her. She took a look at him over her shoulder, his eyes wide, frantic and scared. And that scared her even more, seeing him that way. It wasn't very often that Daryl was scared, but when he was, she knew, they were in a bad place.

She hit an edge before she'd realized where her feet were, falling fast, tumbling over herself, feet in the air, hands grasping at dirt, and Daryl was behind her, a heavier body falling until the both of them hit solid ground side by side.

Beth landed on her shoulder, face in the dirt with a loud thud. One of Daryl's feet swiped her arm. It would leave a bruise later.

"Augh," Daryl said beside her, straightening himself out with a grunt. He was wincing, holding his side. "You okay?" he mumbled, looking at her.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, rubbing her arm.

His face was blank, and she knew he was thinking the same thing that she was. It had been a bad idea to come here. They should have just stayed away. Found another house on the coast, or something. Taking this type of risk without knowing what was on the other end was pretty damn stupid.

There was no turning back though. They were here and had no way of leaving, so instead of feeling regretful, she took in her surroundings. They'd fallen over a ledge, landing on a piece of flat land, black dirt beneath their bottoms. The trees above them were thick, but didn't continue past the ledge. Ahead of them was a small river and instinctually, Beth scrambled over on her knees, put her palms in the water and lifted it to her mouth to drink.

It was cool against her hot skin and chapped lips, gliding perfectly down her throat and into her belly. Daryl was at her side in a moment, his shoulder bumping against hers as he splashed water against his face, over his neck and down his back, not much of it making it to his mouth.

Once they'd drunk their fill, they sat back against the dirt to catch their breath, water dripping from their faces. Beth could tell that Daryl was just as eager as she was to move away, as far as possible, from the people with the guns in the fields. Where they would go, she had no idea, but before she could voice her concern, Daryl spoke.

"Let's follow the water," he said smartly, getting to his feet and reaching for her hand.

She took it. She always did. It wasn't because she was weak or didn't want to make a choice, it was just because she trusted Daryl. And Daryl never hesitated. It's what had kept them alive for so long.

The river extended for what felt like miles, until it ended at a group of rocks and shot straight down into a waterfall that splashed continuously into a lake. It was beautiful - like a postcard, Beth thought. The greenery was everywhere, the rocks were a rich gray purple, the water below, a deep cobalt blue.

But, beyond the beauty, the reality of their situation was undeniably real. Danger was behind them. The lake below was very far and although the water was beautiful and crisp and clear, there was no telling what was beneath the surface. If the ground came too quickly, the fall would kill them. But there really, was no other option.

"We have to jump," Beth said, peering over the edge.

Daryl scoffed at her. "We can't jump, Beth. We don't know what the ground is like down there. We could break our necks. We just need to find a way around."

But she didn't care. Like she had said to him a day ago - they had lost everything. There was nothing left for them to go back to. So what did another jump matter? If she died, well, she'd have plenty of people waiting for her in the afterlife. And if she lived? What a wonderful adventure that would be.

So, with Daryl busy looking for another way to the ground below, Beth stepped back, until she couldn't see the lake below and ran as fast as she could, taking a stomach clenching leap, and jumped, straight from the rocks, down into the lake below. Her belly felt like it could blow through her skin, straight through her abdomen and ribs, right out into the sky, but she crashed into the water, more delicately than she imagined she would have, sinking all the way to the bottom, then swam to the top, flipping her hair around and looking up towards where she'd jumped from with a shout of glee.

Daryl's face was pale white and screwed up in a scowl and when she looked at him, she couldn't help but laugh. She knew he'd be angry at her and chastise her for doing something so thoughtless and stupid, but she'd made it and it was _exhilarating_. And that's all that mattered in the moment.

Playfully she shouted, "C'mon down. Water's fine!" and he gave her a helpless smile, relieved, taking the jump himself, landing with a hard splash a few feet away from her.

He broke through the surface too, wiping his hair away from his eyes to look at her, the ghost of a grin leaving his face. She would take whatever he had to say, she knew he'd let her have it, but the fights they had always ended quickly. She waited, for him to yell at her and tell her how stupid that had been, but instead his eyes shifted off of her, to something behind her.

She spun in the water, quickly, to look at what, or rather, _who_ he was looking at. A man stood at the edge of the lake, leaning against a tall rock. He was pale white, with blonde hair and a sinister grin.

"Hi there," he said very calmly, crossing his arms. Beth noticed that he had a crossbow slung across his back. Daryl had lost his in the crash and she suddenly realized how vulnerable they really were. "Welcome," he continued, "and congratulations for making it this far."

Daryl was in the water next to her and his eyes were taking the man in. She could tell, just by his body language that he didn't feel threatened.

"Well, are you here for paradise, or not?" the man asked, coaxing them towards him.

Beth nodded, eager, but Daryl swam towards the man first, hoisting himself out of the lake onto the ledge where he stood. Beth followed suit, Daryl helping her from the water and they turned to face their greeter.

"I'm Dwight," the man offered.

"Daryl," he grumbled, offering a hand. The man took it and shook it with a nod. "And this is Beth." Dwight nodded at her too.

"Well, you'll be wanting to meet with Negan," the man said. "Follow me."

Daryl glanced at Beth giving her a reassuring nod as he followed Dwight, placing his hand at the small of her back to follow him.

* * *

As they walked, Dwight told them a little about their community, a completely self sufficient, structured village of sorts. The island was free of the dead and they valued the fuck out of their privacy - hence the guards by the fields. Since they'd made it past them, they'd passed their first test. Whatever that meant.

Dwight and his wife Sherry had come here with another couple who had heard of this _paradise_ and like Daryl and Beth, had a map to get here. They'd been here about a year and not only was it safe, it was beautiful. They had lives here. Dreams. Jobs. Even children.

The leader here was Negan. He was a simple man, but demanded respect and order across the community. Everyone was to contribute. Everyone had a role to fill.

They walked through the landscape, trees and bushes and rocks thinning out slowly until they ended completely, revealing a wide opening. It was _impressive_ \- that was the only word Beth had for it. There were all sorts of structures, huts and small buildings, a massive aqueduct system made from wood, man-made walkways, shrubbery. She even saw people playing from what looked like a wooden checkers board.

Dwight walked with a purpose, his chest puffed out, towards a large hut that was directly in the middle of the community. The roof was heavy, shielding the sun, held up by thick wooden rods that let a healthy breeze run through the area. Beth squinted to adjust to the new light as they walked into the shade.

The floor was made from basic wood and on it was a large blanket where a man sat in a meditation pose, legs crossed, hands clenched, sitting firm on his knees. His eyes were closed and it appeared that he was studying his breathing.

"Sir," Dwight said, kneeling on the floor. He suggested that they do the same, by his hand movements. It was a show of respect, Beth realized. So, she went to kneel, but Daryl's hand caught her.

She looked over at him and he shook his head. "Don't," he said quietly. Her stomach flip-flopped with anxiety as she took a step back and stood side-by-side with her companion, close enough that their arms touched.

The man opened his eyes slowly, a smile quickly creeping to his face as he looked at the group of them. "Well." His eyes landed on Dwight. "What do we have here?"

"New arrivals," Dwight responded, standing. "Daryl and Beth."

The man called Negan straightened himself out, got to his knees and then to his feet, eyeing the two of them down. He was a handsome man, Negan - dark features, a little gray in his beard, deep chocolate eyes that lingered on Beth much longer than they did on Daryl. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

"Hello," he said, smiling at Beth, revealing a whole row of white teeth. "Welcome, to our little slice of paradise." He raised his arms, showing the place around them.

His smile didn't fade as he turned to Daryl, offering his hand, as Dwight had done and Daryl took it to shake. Negan nodded at him kindly, then shifted his eyes back on Beth. They were intense and invasive, so she looked away.

"Tell me, Beth," her name rolled off Negan's tongue like butter, "how'd you come to find us here?"

Daryl straightened up next to her. "We were shown," he said immediately, not letting her answer. "Someone showed us."

"Who?" Negan asked, shifting his gaze to Daryl. His eyes sized him up. The men were similar heights, but somehow Negan seemed larger.

"A man," Daryl answered, shaking his head, "we didn't catch his name. He drew us a map. Gave us his boat."

"Speedboat?" Negan asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah," Daryl answered gruffly. "It's gone now."

"Must have been Connor," Negan mentioned casually to Dwight, who nodded in response. "Sad. But, he was no longer interested in staying with us." He crossed his arms. "Tell me about yourselves," he demanded suddenly. "How have you survived for this long out there?"

"We were with a larger group," Daryl answered quickly. "But, they're gone. We were in Georgia, at a prison for a while. We were attacked. Forced out. Beth and I escaped together. That was about four months ago. We've been on our own since then."

"You must be quite strong to have survived this long, hm?" Negan pressed, crossing his arms.

"Yes," Daryl answered. "We are."

"Well," Negan said, looking like he was thinking for a moment, "I'll tell you, we've created a safe-ass hunk of land here. A real sense of community. The only time we travel back to the mainland is to get supplies, if necessary, which I'll tell ya Daryl, is not much. We make a trip about once a month, but for the most part we're totally fucking self-sufficient. You believe that? The island has been good to us." He paused for a moment. "I do have a few rules though, that keep this place together. I need you to listen to them and obey them, if you're plannin' on staying with us."

Beth and Daryl both nodded simultaneously.

"Sure," Daryl mumbled.

"Okay," Beth said at the same time.

"Good. Real good. We'll be gettin' along just fine." He licked his lips, looking Beth up and down again. She stiffened. "One, you'll have a job here. A set of responsibilities. You'll keep yourselves and your residence clean. You'll help the community at any cost. You'll be loyal to me and my people. And most importantly? You keep this place a secret."

He looked at them again, once at Daryl, then back at Beth, raising his eyebrows. "You guys, uh, _fucking_?" he asked bluntly.

Beth narrowed her eyes at him, then looked at Daryl who was looking at his feet.

"I'll take that as a no," he said, clicking his teeth together as he grinned at Beth. "Shame on you Daryl."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to her.

Beth sensed that Negan was a man who got what he wanted and she wasn't sure she liked the way he was looking at her. Although, maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world; affection from a man. A man in charge. After all, Daryl had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't interested in getting close to her and _my god_ , was she craving it.

So she smiled back at him, biting her lip and toeing the ground. Daryl tensed even more so beside her, but made no move to say anything else.

"Dwight will show you to where you'll be staying. Connor's old place, yeah? Think that's a real fuckin' deal, hm?" he asked Dwight who nodded in agreement. He turned back towards Beth and Daryl. "Welcome. And good luck." He ended with a wink, then turned to go sit on the blanket behind him.

"C'mon," Dwight said quietly, motioning them to follow him. "I'll show you to where you'll be staying."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Hope you are all enjoying this story! I've made it about half-way through the comic books, so I'm not sure how close to character I'm keeping Negan and Dwight, but I'm going off what we've seen so far on TV._

 _Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing. It really keeps me going and super happy to see that people are enjoying what I'm writing. Fan fiction has always been an escape for me and I think it's really helping me develop my writing. So whether they're good/bad/ugly reviews, I welcome any and all feedback._

 _As always, don't forget to follow me on Twitter camurray4688 and Tumbler caitlinwritesstuff._

 **Song Inspiration:** "Young and Beautiful" - Lana Del Ray


	5. Chapter 5 - The Man

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 5 - The Man

* * *

Their hut was small - a single room with two chairs and a table. There were no walls, only thick rods that held the roof over their heads, as it had been in the larger structure they'd just left. There was no privacy, he noticed. Anyone could see what they were doing at any given moment. And more importantly, they could be attacked very easily. Daryl didn't like that at all.

Dwight stepped to the side, letting them enter, looking around. "Sherry will come by with some things for ya'll," Dwight said. "Get settled. After the sun sets, we'll meet by Negan and you can get your job assignments."

Daryl turned to grunt some kind of response, but before he could, Dwight was gone and he was left in the small space with Beth. She'd gone to sit on the floor, kicking off her boots and socks so she was left with bare feet. She smiled as she looked down at them, then up at Daryl. Well, she certainly looked at home.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

He knew what he thought. He thought he didn't like these people much, wasn't sure he trusted them. He _hated_ the way Negan had looked at Beth, like she was some prize he was going to collect. He stared at her - _Beth Greene_. The girl he'd met at the farm was long since gone, though she looked relatively the same. Skinnier, maybe a little older looking, but still painfully beautiful.

Her big eyes looked up at him and she batted her lashes, waiting for a response from him. Her lips were slightly parted and he lingered on them, a little longer than he should have, but pulled away when a twitch below his abdomen made him realize he was heading into dangerous territory with himself.

" _What_?" she asked, so fucking innocently. Didn't she know what that did to him?

"Nothin'." He kicked the ground with his toe. "What do _you_ think?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know her response.

"I think it's nice," she responded cordially.

Daryl let out a laugh. "What do you really think?" he asked, trying again.

"I think it's _safe_. I think…" she paused to look away from him, beyond his shoulders and out at their surroundings. "I think we could build a life here."

He walked towards her, part of him wanting to take her in his arms and shake some sense into her. They shouldn't stay here. They should go away - far away. Go back to that house where they'd almost made it. Where they could have _built a life_ , together. Just them.

But before he could say anything else, another figure appeared at their door. She was young, probably only a few years older than Beth and pleasant looking. Her brown hair was short, eyes wide and hazel. She was sweating from the heat. In her arms she carried a heavy tangle of ropes and had two burlap bags slung over each of her arms.

"Hi," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm Sherry."

"Daryl," he nodded at her, reaching his arms out to take what she was carrying.

"I'm Beth," he heard her say behind him, a smile already on her lips.

"Nice to meet ya," she responded, her eyes darting back and forth between them. She nodded towards the things Daryl had taken. "There's two hammocks there. Should be able to tie 'em to the poles for sleeping, if you want. Some people prefer the floor, but the hammocks are pretty comfy. Clothes and towels are in the bag. Ain't got no shoes to speak of though, not that you need 'em."

"Thanks," Daryl said, raising his eyebrow. "Do you…what do we need to do for this?" he asked.

Sherry raised her own eyebrows at him. "Nothin'," she replied simply. "Negan said you can stay, so…" she trailed off. "We take care of our people. You're one of us now. Welcome." He could have sworn there was a hint of sadness in her voice as she spun around and left them alone.

Beth had gotten to her feet, taking one of the bags from Daryl and rummaging through it. Sure enough, there were all sorts of shirts and shorts and small towels meant to be used for washing.

As Beth unloaded all of the clothes from the bags to take a look at what they had, Daryl went to work on tying up the hammocks to their little hut. It was easier than he'd imagined and once he was done, he looked back at Beth who was looking around at their surroundings like it was the best thing she'd ever seen. That smile - it lit up the entire space.

And with that, Daryl thought, maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Night was upon them quickly after they'd eaten and taken a spin in the showers, and as it turned out, _everyone_ gathered at Negan's hut after the sun set. The space was filled with people, Daryl guessed about forty or so, if not more.

They approached hand in hand, for more comfort than anything. As they came closer, he felt her stride slow and her hesitation build.

"Look at all of those people," she whispered to him, digging her toes into the sand.

He only nodded at her declaration. Beth, at least, was good with people - making friends and all that. Daryl, not so much. But both of them had been away from other people for so long that coming into that amount of people was sort of terrifying. An entirely new group. It felt wrong.

"C'mon," he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, tugging her forward. She looked forward and not at him, her eyes narrowed with a determined sort of stare.

Before they could make any movement, hands touched Daryl's shoulders and in an instant he'd reacted, his hand leaving Beth's and raising his fist to the air to attack.

"Whoa!" came a deep, familiar voice. Thick hands caught his fist, pushing him away as if to say _down boy, behave_!

When he turned, he saw Negan, between he and Beth, in the darkness, his face illuminated by the small fires burning carefully around the large hut. He grinned again, revealing deep dimples, giving his face a softness that Daryl knew was a sham. There was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said to Daryl, looking at his fist.

Daryl lowered it. "Instinct," he muttered. Negan nodded in understanding, then looked over towards Beth. "Come with me," he said, pulling each of them by their shoulders, tugging them forward. "This will be fun."

* * *

He told Daryl and Beth to sit at the front of the crowd of people, sitting on the floor, facing him. Daryl was reminded, eerily, of a church service. Not that he'd ever actually been to one himself - just what he'd always imagined or seen on television.

Negan stood at the front of them all, standing - a show of power, Daryl realized. He suddenly wished very much that he wasn't sitting.

"Good evening," Negan bellowed out to the crowd with another flash of his smile.

"Good evening," came various voices in response.

"Welcome, welcome. Hope we've all had a productive day. I've got some big news that may or may not have been traveling around," he gave a small chuckle. "We have new arrivals!"

There were murmurs in the crowd; a ripple. Daryl felt himself break into a sweat. If there was anything he absolutely hated more than anything else in the world, it was being the center of attention.

"They've traveled a long way and have survived in the outside world for a _long_ time before they made their way to us. I think they'll be extremely valuable to our team. I want you to welcome the ever loving shit out of them tonight, okay?" He smiled again. Tonight? Daryl wondered if there was some kind of ceremony for new arrivals.

Negan looked at them then and with his hands gestured for them to stand up. Beth did so instantly. Daryl was a little slower. She was grinning and Daryl was frowning, looking at her, then back at the floor.

"Beth and Daryl!" he announced excitedly, then clapped his hands loudly, enticing others to follow suit. And they did, until the whole small hut erupted into applause. It was loud, and Daryl's instinct screamed at him to tell them to shut up. The walkers would surely hear them, find them, tear them apart and eat them. And then, he remembered, there were no walkers here. The danger, it seemed, was something much different.

"Now's the fun part," he said only to the two of them. "These two need jobs. Where are we feeling the need the most?" he asked the crowd.

"The girl can help with harvest," offered an older woman near the front. She was sizing Beth up with her eyes.

Beth nodded. "I grew up on a farm," she said, sounding small. "I know my way around crops." The woman nodded at her with approval.

"And Daryl?" Negan scanned the crowd.

"He can help us with the expansion," a man near the middle of the room suggested. "New buildings," he explained.

Well, that didn't sound so bad. Daryl felt okay with that. He was good with his hands. He could make it work. So he shrugged his shoulders, nodding at the man who had spoken up.

"Good, real good," Negan said them. "Well, now that that's out of the way, who's up for a drink or a smoke?"

The crowd erupted into a loud cheer, people standing and getting to their feet. Dwight appeared at one of the entrances, rolling what looked like a makeshift flat cart into the hut. On it were all sorts of types of alcohol, liquors and wines, cups, and a very large container of what Daryl recognized as weed.

People descending onto Dwight and his cart, pouring themselves drinks, taking handfuls of marijuana, pulling all sorts of makeshift pipes and papers from their pockets.

Daryl watched them, fascinated. He realized, it was a party. They were having a party. How had they gone from barely surviving another night, to a _party_?

"Does this happen every night?" Daryl found himself asking Negan.

"Yes," he said. "Most nights, at least. We like to enjoy ourselves. There's so much to live for." His eyes landed on Beth and he bit his lower lip.

Beth, unaware of his gaze, stared too, just as fascinated with the people who's only concern right now was to get a little messed up.

And then, suddenly, there was music. A man and a woman standing side by side were playing two guitars and singing and Daryl thought Beth was going to nearly fall over with excitement as she watched them. When she looked back at him, her eyes wide, bluer than he'd seen them in ages, she whispered, " _Do you see that?_ "

He nodded, and realized, suddenly, her brightness was back.

Daryl wanted to touch her. To squeeze her and tell her what he'd been seeing. And not just that he saw it, but that he _loved_ seeing it. That he loved her, and maybe - just maybe, it was in a bigger way than he had realized before.

But Beth was swept up before he could even open his mouth, into Negan's arms. He had grasped her hands in his own to twirl her around. A dance. In front of all these people. It was something Daryl would have been terrified to do. Paranoid, he wondered if Negan knew how shy Daryl was. If he was toying with him. Throwing Beth in his face.

Others joined into their dancing, shimmying their shoulders, shaking their hips, throwing hands into the air. Not a care in the motherfucking world, Daryl thought.

He watched Beth for what seemed like a long while, dancing with Negan, their steps in sync, both of them grinning wildly.

"So, do you love her?"

Startled, he looked to his side. Sherry was there, two cups in her hand.

"I'm sorry?" he answered.

She handed one of the cups to Daryl, and he took it with a raised eyebrow. "Negan's a man who gets what he wants. And from the looks of it, he wants your girl."

"But she's not my girl," he protested.

She clinked their cups together. "See you later Daryl," was all she said in response.

When he looked back at Beth, her hair straw blonde and long, moving to the beat of the song that was being played, he felt like his throat could close up. She was _smiling_. Really, truly, genuinely _smiling_. At Negan.

He felt a feeling he hadn't felt in a _long_ time. He couldn't pinpoint what it was immediately, so he shook it off, sucking down his booze. And it wasn't until they were back in their hut, curled up in their own hammocks, Beth softly snoring across from him, that Daryl realized what he had been feeling was jealousy.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I know. Poor Daryl. :( Thanks guys, so much for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing. Please, if you're enjoying this story, take a minute to review._

 _As always, follow me on Twitter camurray4688 and Tumblr caitlinwritesstuff._

 **Song Inspiration:** "Sex On Fire" - Kings of Leon


	6. Chapter 6 - The Divide

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter Six - The Divide

* * *

She was high without having put any substance in her body. The music, the dancing, the atmosphere - the breeze from the ocean blowing its way through the hut, filled with happy, _smiling_ people. It was a scene Beth hadn't ever thought she'd see again.

She felt free, dare she say, even _happy_? She knew she was jumping to conclusions about this place…it all seemed too good to be true but…she couldn't remember the last time she'd danced, or even the last time she'd heard music. It might have been back at the funeral home when she'd played that piano. They hadn't come across an instrument since. Sure, she sang every so often, but even that had stopped a while ago.

Beth flew across the sandy floor, others around her moving their bodies to the beat of the guitar and the sound of others voices, slowly and methodically, shimmying and twirling and dancing and as the night continued on, she realized she didn't want it to stop.

Negan had left her to the larger group, but stood still in the corner, smoking a loosely rolled joint and he watched her, his eyes smiling even though he wasn't. To her surprise, Beth found that she didn't hate the attention.

But before she could really enjoy it, or _dissect_ it, another pair of eyes caught her attention, peering underneath heavy lids. A familiar stare, one that sunk into her soul because he _knew_ her, he knew all the good and the bad and the worst of her. She suddenly felt guilty for what she'd done, being dragged off by another man - letting go and enjoying herself. That kind of stuff didn't come easily to Daryl.

Daryl looked small, hunched over, one foot up against the wall, like he was trying to curl into himself and disappear. His shaggy hair hung in his face, shielding him, but she knew exactly how he was feeling now.

She caught her breath and moved towards him, trying to smile, trying to show him that this was okay. It was okay to let go. Okay to breathe. His eyes followed her until she was in front of him.

"Do you want to go?" she asked, surprised at how out of breath she sounded.

He left her eyes to look behind her, presumably at Negan. "Do you?" he asked.

She hesitated. The truth was, she didn't want to, but it was clear that Daryl had been here long enough. "Yes," she said without hesitation. "Let's go."

He relaxed, his shoulders going slack. He wiped the hair from his eyes and even gave her a hint of a smile. "Thanks," he whispered so softly she wasn't sure if he'd said it at all.

As walked back to their hut - their new _home_ , Beth reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his and he let her, squeezing her hand with his own. It was comfortable and familiar, Daryl's hand in her own and she smiled up at him hoping that maybe, as time went on, Daryl would come to love this place too.

* * *

She woke to footsteps. Heavy, shuffling footsteps, a bit too close for comfort. She stirred, instantly panicked, heart picking up its pace, sweat breaking out across her forehead. The sky was still dark, the fires had long since been put out. She was disoriented and fuzzy, willing her eyes to adjust.

"Augh!" she let out a low shriek as a figure appeared over her.

"Shit," he said in a whisper. "Sorry if I woke you." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"You didn't," she lied, sitting up in the hammock. She balanced her body so that one side sagged lower to allow her feet to touch the floor. "You okay?"

Daryl had moved away from her, going to the edge of their small hut to sit, peering out at the community they'd arrived at just earlier that day. It felt much longer than a day, she thought. It almost felt like they had been there for weeks. She reminded herself to start another calendar tomorrow. Time could get away from you easily in this place.

"Can't sleep," he said. She lifted herself up and came over to sit next to him, her eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes wildly blue, even in the shadows. He seemed to be trying to read her.

She looked down shyly, then back up to meet his eyes. She always got that jolt in her belly when she looked at him like that, really met eyes and saw underneath that mask he always wore. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly awkward.

"Nothing," he said, looking away.

She nudged him with her shoulder, knowing better. " _What_?" she stressed.

"Negan," he blurted out, looking away from her now, back towards the big hut where they'd had what Beth could only describe as a makeshift party. "He likes you."

She flushed, glad Daryl couldn't see in the darkness that surrounded them. Negan was a large, handsome man, well spoken, fit and a smile that went on for days. Beth couldn't decide if he was terrifying or charming, but she couldn't let Daryl know that. "I guess," was all she replied. "I think he just likes _women_."

"No," Daryl said again, a little more forcefully this time. "I saw how he was lookin' at you. Like you're a piece of meat," he practically growled the last part. It angered him, she could see that. But, Beth thought, he was overreacting.

"We've only been here a day, Daryl, don't be ridiculous," she replied.

"You don't know men, Beth," Daryl said, shaking his head. Well that was a gut check. Sometimes he was so fucking condescending.

"Oh right," Beth responded sarcastically. "I'm just _so_ naive."

"Yeah," Daryl retorted angrily. "Sometimes you are."

"Fuck you," Beth said, moving to get to her feet.

"No," Daryl sighed, grabbing her arm and pulling her back down to the floor. "I just mean, you need to be careful. We still don't know these people and Negan could be dangerous."

"I'm just trying to go along with things Daryl. Trying to fit in. Don't get like this."

"Like what?"

"Paranoid that everyone wants to kill us."

He glared at her, chewing at his cuticles like he did when he was nervous. "We're in the palm of his hand, Beth," Daryl said. "It might not seem like it because there's no walkers, really no outsiders we need to worry about, but we _are_ trapped here."

"Daryl, Negan told us there's boats. They take them out when they need to go on runs. We're not trapped. Why would he have told us about them if he was trying to keep us here?" She was trying to convince him, but she knew, if Daryl thought a certain way about something, it was hard for him to be persuaded.

He sighed, closing his eyes, like he was thinking of the right thing to say. She knew what he was saying. It was fair. Hell, he might be right. But this was a glimmer of hope for a new chance at life and she'd be damned if they mess it up before they'd even gotten started.

"I just…want to keep you safe," he said.

"It ain't your job to keep me safe," she answered. "I can take care of myself. You know damn well I can."

"Yeah," Daryl nodded in agreement. "I know you can take care of yourself Beth. I get that. Not questionin' it. But this is a new group and I just…want you to be careful."

"I _am_ being careful Daryl. Can't you just enjoy a good thing while we have it?" She sighed. "And, maybe Negan showing me some attention isn't necessarily a bad thing," she dared to say, looking back down at her lap.

His head shot up and she saw him glare at her from the corner of her eye. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean, it's not the worst thing in the world to get to know the guy in charge a little better," she shrugged.

"So what, you're gonna throw yourself at him to get to _know him better_?" he asked, cruelly. She physically pulled away from him then as he tried to search her face for an answer.

"Is that what you think of me?" she hissed at him again. She knew he was hinting to the night in the house before the hurricane blew threw. She knew he was frustrated with her and maybe some kind of strange jealousy was rearing his ugly head. Daryl only got angry like this with her when he felt like he was being backed into a corner.

"It's what you said," he retorted.

"I didn't mean it that way. I'm not just going to _throw_ myself at some man I just met, Jesus Daryl, I thought you knew me better than that. All I've done is talk and dance with him a little bit - ain't no harm in that."

Their eyes met and he seemed to stare through her. "Listen to me Beth. You so much as _look_ at that guy the wrong way, he'll expect you to fall in line and do _whatever_ he wants you to do. He gets what he wants. And that includes women."

"Maybe this wouldn't even be a problem if you'd just told him we were together, hm?" she asked, her frustrating coming to a boiling point. She hadn't wanted to talk about it, and she still didn't. But the truth was, Beth was lonely. And if Daryl wasn't going to quench that for her, then, he couldn't be mad for her enjoying a little attention. It wasn't like she was going to act on it. "I'm gonna get some sleep before tomorrow," she said coldly, getting to her feet.

"Beth—"

"See you tomorrow," she said, going towards her hammock. Daryl didn't move. He didn't say anything else, he just sat where he was, looking out in the distance. There was nothing wrong with her wanting to become part of the community. About getting to know Negan. Nothing wrong at all. And Daryl would just have to deal with it.

* * *

The next day came, sunlight creeping its way into their small hut. She'd slept strangely, her neck feeling sore, but shed actually _slept_ , which was a feat of its own. Still a little disoriented, she stepped out of her hammock, bare feet hitting the wooden floor.

Despite her soreness, she still felt refreshed and felt even better when she realized she could take a shower this morning. Smiling instantly, she looked over her shoulder at the hammock where Daryl should have been, only to realize he was already gone.

She frowned, annoyed, remembering their conversation from last night. She wished he wouldn't be so overprotective. She wasn't stupid. She knew Daryl cared about her, maybe had even grown to love her. Lord knows she had felt that way about him. But part of that was maybe out of necessity. And now, with this new community, maybe they could start to live without needing to rely solely on each other.

She stepped out of the hut with the towel she'd used the day before and some fresh clothes. There were people moving about, some were eating, some were chatting casually. She scanned the bodies for Daryl, but he was nowhere to be found. She thought maybe he'd gotten a head start on work.

Inside of a door that swung open on a hinge, there were three showers in a row, a rope tied across the top so that you could drape your towel over for a bit of privacy. Each of the stalls were empty, so Beth hurried into the first one, quickly undressing. Overhead was a larger piece of makeshift piping which she could open to release some water.

She bathed quickly, still not feeling comfortable with the idea of someone unknown walking in on her at any moment. The showers at the prison were quite like this, but at least she always felt like she'd known everyone there.

Thankfully, the place remained empty until she finished, wrapping herself in her towel and wringing her hair out on the floor before she very quickly stuffed herself into clean clothes. It was always an extraordinary feeling, filling out a new pair of clean clothes. One of the nicest feelings in the world now, she thought.

Beyond the showers, there was a jagged piece of glass that someone had hung on the wall as a mirror. It was dirty, but Beth could still see herself. She hadn't really looked at herself since the night in the house on the coast and she thought she'd looked rough then. A week or two on the run with scarcely any food hadn't done her any good, she looked older and more tired somehow, deep black bags underneath her blue eyes and creases that wouldn't disappear in the corners of her eyes.

She'd washed her hair, but it was still completely unmanageable as she brought her fingers up to the back of her neck. It was curled in a rats nest, knotted and matted to no avail.

The creak of a hinge told her she was no longer alone and when she looked up into the mirror, she saw a somewhat familiar face behind her. Sherry.

"Hi Beth," she said.

"Hi Sherry," Beth replied. .

"How'd you sleep?" she asked, coming up closer to her.

"Pretty good," Beth answered, still toying with her hair.

"Need a hand with your hair?" Sherry asked, coming closer still.

"Um."

"I have a brush," she offered.

Beth turned, surprised to find Sherry so close to her own body. She'd invaded her space, her bosom almost touching her own, close enough so that she could smell her breath. "Sure, that'd be great," Beth whispered.

"Great. Follow me," Sherry said, spinning on her heel. So Beth followed her, feeling slightly strange.

To her surprise, Sherry took her to the large hut where the party had been the night before. There were hammocks across almost every post, some with sleeping bodies in them, some not. Sherry went over to an empty one where a few things were scattered around. She pulled out a brush, then went to work on Beth's hair as she stood behind her.

"So Beth. How old are you?" Sherry asked.

"Almost twenty," Beth replied. It had been a long time since someone had asked her that question.

"Hm," Sherry said. Beth could feel her plucking at her knots with the brush. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Beth nodded. "It was nice to feel _normal_ ," she answered.

"Yeah. It is." Sherry tugged a knot out, smoothing the hair on her hand. Her fingers lingered on her neck for a minute and Beth tried not to pull away from her too much. "Daryl didn't seem to enjoy himself too much."

"He's not a very social person," Beth defended him. "He'll adjust. It might just take him some time."

"Do you like this place?" Sherry asked, pulling out another knot.

"Of course I do," Beth answered, unsure of how she felt about the conversation. She wondered what Sherry's intentions were.

"What do you think of Negan?"

And there is was. Beth tensed instantly.

"He's…charming." The words slipped out of her mouth without another thought.

They seemed to be the right words though, because Sherry let out a small, genuine laugh. "That he is," she said, her fingers on Beth's scalp now. "Very charming."

* * *

 **A/N:** A few things…

I apologize for taking such a long break between this and my other story. I felt like I was getting some not-so-happy reviews about how I was writing these characters and I needed to just take a step back for a minute and remember that I totally do this for fun. I've been spoiled with really great followers, and I absolutely do appreciate all sorts of feedback (I'm not trying to insinuate that I only want completely positive reviews because - then what's the fun! ;)) but I did need to just take a minute to regroup. Plus like also, life, ya know.

I view Beth as one of those characters that is just inherently good, BUT I never thought it meant that she wasn't fucked up or capable of making really stupid choices or getting bent out of shape over male attention. Beth is a human being, at a really delicate age in a world that's gone to shit. I think that's part of why writing her is so much fun - there's SO much you can do with that type of character. Throw Daryl into the mix and well…you know the rest.

Anyway, I guess I just want to say that I'm not sure everyone is going to like the way I write Beth (or any character for that matter). She's a great character and I absolutely felt like her story line was cut way too short on the TV show. I think the fun with fan fiction is that you can really play with these characters and mold them into whoever you want them to be.

On the other hand, I also think that it's totally fair when people get completely invested in fan fiction stories and characters because they're part of a bigger world and that's why we're all on here in the first place. It's just important to remember that these stories are only someone's interpretation of what might happen to these characters if they were in this situation, if something canon never happened, etc. I think it's also important to say that while this is just fanfiction, writing is still an intimate thing and sometimes really, really difficult for people to share.

Okay, I'm done giving my little speech. LOL. Thanks for reading/favoriting/following and reviewing. :)


	7. Chapter 7 - The Wives

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 7 - The Wives

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when Daryl and the rest of the team stopped their building for a lunch break. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he'd stopped for a break without needing to look over his shoulder for the dead. It gave him a weird sort of deja vu feeling, like he was back to how things used to be.

He sat alone. The men he was surrounded with were nice enough, but Daryl shut himself off fairly quickly. Grunts to responses and small nods usually gave people the impression that he wasn't much of a talker. And he really wasn't, unless it was with Beth. He'd been that way with Merle too. Days like these, after fights with her, _really_ made him miss his older brother.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he bit into an apple that he'd been given by one of the women who had brought over a few baskets of food which the men descended upon like wild animals. Daryl waited his turn, glad to see there were a few apples, ears of corn and cooked fish wrapped in large leaves which Daryl had already eaten.

It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for this place, or these people - but he still didn't trust them. They hadn't been here long enough to really get to know these people or what they were about. The whole thing could have been a front.

He'd felt badly about telling Beth off, but he was frustrated with her willingness to _trust_ so goddamn easily. The girl wasn't stupid, but after everything they'd been through it seemed like she was so eager to find something good, and this place was that for her. She'd thrown caution to the wind and took to Negan and his people so _easily_. Daryl wasn't going to make that same mistake.

Two men came over near him, chatting to each other, both of them eating some corn. They took a seat nearby, close enough so that Daryl could hear their conversation. He tried not to eavesdrop, but he just couldn't help himself.

"…I don't know, it was one of his wives. One of the new ones. Can't keep track anymore."

"I know man. There ain't gonna be anyone left for us to try and fuck."

One of the men chuckled.

"They got a nice deal if you ask me. No work duty. Extra food, clothes, whatever. Kind of a sweet deal, no?"

"Are you sayin' you'd fuck Negan for some extra food?"

"Fuck you man."

Another chuckle.

"How many he's got now anyway?"

"Last I heard it was eight. Scoutin' that new arrival I heard? Sure as shit jumped on that opportunity before any of us can."

"Lucky fuck."

Daryl had heard enough. He got to his feet and wandered back to where the baskets of food had been, his head spinning. The basket that had been filled with apples was filled with eaten cores.

"Waste not," the woman instructed him, pointing into the basket.

"Thanks," Daryl answered, taking one last bite and throwing it in with the other waste. She nodded at him and gave a smile.

Wives. Negan had wives. Not two or three, but _eight._ And he was scouting Beth. Daryl had to pace for a moment to let the anger fade away. His hands were clenched into fists and he closed his eyes, only able to see her. That night. The kisses on his face. His lips. His belly tingled, so he snapped his eyelids open and went back to work.

Daryl avoided the men he'd eavesdropped on for the rest of the day, working hard and only asking questions when he needed to. It seemed that they were building a large covered structure, though Daryl was unsure what it was for.

The day ended quickly and he headed to the showers immediately. He was eager to see Beth, feeling badly about leaving this morning without saying anything to her. So, he showered quickly, the water feeling incredible against his sunburnt shoulders and sweaty back. It was so good that he barely even noticed the presence of anyone else as he bathed. He hadn't had a real shower since they'd been at the prison and it felt fucking good - _great_ to get clean again.

"Daryl," a loud voice echoed, sending chills down his spine. He froze under the water, closing his eyes in frustration. Negan was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the stall beside him, opening up the pipe that spilled water out over him. "Negan," Daryl replied back between his teeth.

"How the fuck are ya?" he asked.

Daryl could practically _feel_ him grinning beside him. Staring at him. Like he knew that Daryl knew what he had planned for Beth. And it was making him uncomfortable. He reached up to close the pipe above his head and moved to grab his towel. "I'm alright," he replied, wrapping the towel around himself.

"Oh, you're a shy motherfucker, are ya?" Negan laughed to himself. "Me? I love showin' my dick off. The ladies around here _fucking love it_."

"Mmhmm," Daryl answered awkwardly, running his hands through his hair.

"Can't believe you haven't tapped Beth yet - shit man, you must have some rock hard balls. Or," Negan peered over the edge of the shower down at Daryl, "you a fag?" He grinned to show his teeth. "Alright in my book," Negan said with a whisper, leaning back towards the water. "Just don't try to fuck me."

"Ain't like that," Daryl mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Negan said, sounding uninterested now.

Daryl was fuming, but refused to let Negan get the better of him. Instead, he dressed quickly, plotting Negan's ultimate demise in his head (it included lots of knives and fire) and headed back to the hut he shared with Beth.

She was laying in the hammock, reading, her blonde hair, healthy and clean around her like some sort of halo. She wore a pair of shorts and a tank top that revealed her slender, freckled arms and legs.

"Hey," Daryl said, as he entered.

She looked up from her book at him. Normally, she'd smile at him, but today she did just the opposite. She frowned. "Hi," she said coldly, looking back at her book.

Daryl came over towards her. "How was your day?"

Her eyes left the page of the book and flicked up at him. Big blue orbs that sunk right through him. "It was _fine_ ," she said, irritated.

"Listen," Daryl said to her while he took a seat on the floor, "I know you're annoyed with me from yesterday, but…you gotta listen to what I have to say."

"And what's what?" she asked.

"It's Negan." He dropped his voice so he wasn't as audible. There were no walls to hide behind here. He had to be careful no one was listening.

She dropped the book completely, standing up from the hammock to come sit on the floor with him. "What about him?" she whispered.

"I heard some of the guys talking today at work and…Negan has _wives_. Multiple wives."

Beth's eyebrows raised. "Really?"

Daryl nodded. "Beth, I think…if you let him get too close…he might…"

Beth's mouth opened slightly in surprise. "No," she whispered.

"Yes," Daryl nodded at her. "They said he was scouting someone new. And that sure as hell ain't me."

"You must have misheard," Beth shook her head.

"Beth." Daryl said her name forcefully. "He offers these women extra food and no work duty. So they live to…please him," Daryl said the last part very seriously. He wanted her to understand how significant this was. "This guy's got power over this entire place Beth. If he wanted to, he could _force_ you to…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Sherry," Beth said to Daryl looking up at him. He couldn't tell if she was sad or scared. It was hard to tell the difference sometimes - those two feelings often melted into one another. "She came looking for me. I saw them - the women that Negan calls his wives, in his hut this morning. I thought, maybe they'd just stayed from the night before but…this makes sense."

"What did she say?" Daryl asked.

Beth flushed. She couldn't hide it, the pink spread from her cheeks up to her ears and down to her neck. It was instant, when she was embarrassed, he could always tell. It wasn't very often, but it did happen.

"She asked me how old I was. What I thought of Negan." She looked down at the ground, biting her lip. He hated her for it. "She noticed that you're not happy Daryl. They all did. You're a loner."

"So what?" Daryl asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Beth shrugged. "I sort of got the impression they don't like that much."

"We can't fucking trust these people Beth. _Especially_ Negan. There's something off about him. Regardless of how many wives he has."

"Like what?" Beth asked.

"Dunno. But I'm not sure we need to wait to find out."

Beth sighed. "It's just…this place. I mean, maybe Negan's not so bad. So he has a bunch of wives. It's weird, but we've got no proof he's forcing these women to be his _wives_. And we've got no reason to believe he'd force me into that. There were a _lot_ of women in his hut this mornin' Daryl. What could he possibly want with me?"

"Don't be stupid Beth," Daryl said quietly.

"I know. It's just…to give this up. We'd have to have a really good reason." She looked around at their surroundings. "This place is _safe_ Daryl. So, we have to make some sacrifices. If that's what he wants from me then…well…maybe we could just make it work."

"No," he said gruffly. "You don't make sacrifices like that."

"You've been sacrificin' since I met you on the farm Daryl. Ain't it my turn?"

Daryl put his arm on her shoulder. "Stop it, right now." He searched her face which was screwed up in pain, eyes brimming with tears. He couldn't stand to watch it. "We'll find a safe place. But Beth, that place ain't here with Negan. We'll take a boat. Go back to where we came from. Start over. We can start over." She let a few tears fall down her cheeks. "Okay?"

She looked up at him then and nodded. He felt like his heart was going to explode from his body. "Okay," she mumbled back, bringing her hand up to his on her shoulder. She squeezed his hand, leaving Daryl extremely warm from head to toe.

He was glad she understood. He was glad they were going to leave. He was glad he was going to get a second chance with her.

* * *

Once the sun had set, Daryl and Beth went to dinner together, eating amongst the community. Daryl even enjoyed his third ear of corn that day, sitting with Beth, knowing that they had a secret between them that no one could touch. It was the closest he'd felt to her in a while.

As they had the previous night, the group went to Negan's larger hut to gather on the floor. Beth and Daryl stood towards the back and watched as Negan stepped up front, Dwight to his right and a few other scattered men behind him. Daryl noticed that the two men from work that day were up there with him and suddenly had a terrible thought. That they'd known exactly what they were talking about this afternoon and had known exactly where Daryl was sitting.

Which meant that they knew exactly what Daryl and Beth might be planning.

He broke out in a cold sweat, immediately, shifting his weight into both feet. A firm stance that came from instinct - just in case they had to run. Or fight. Or worse.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Negan began, his voice echoing throughout the hut loudly. "Great day we've had today, no? Fucking beautiful weather. Great progress on the new, larger hut. Crop growth - fucking awesome! Loads of fish in inventory. I'll tell ya, this place could not be more fucking incredible."

"Yeah!" came shouts from the crowd.

"However," Negan began pacing back and forth at the front of the crowd, "we're running low on a few superficial things. Batteries. clothes, towels - there's been a request for more instruments, fuckin' _tampons_ , toothpaste and the like. I'm recruitin' for the run." He eyed the crowd. "Thought I might break in our newcomers."

Daryl looked up, looked to meet his eyes, but Negan's stare was directed at Beth beside him. She looked like a deer in the headlights, looking at him with confusion.

" _Beth_ ," her name rolled off his tongue carefully. Slowly. "Having come from the outside world, girl knows her way around and…" he continued on, but the words were lost to Daryl. Her name was echoing in his ears, the world spinning, people turning, clapping.

Beth gripped his arm and he wasn't sure, when he looked at her, if it was for her to stay steady or to hold Daryl back from Negan. The fire he'd seen before, it had returned as Negan came back towards Beth and the people around them cheering.

Apparently, it was an honor to go on a run with Negan - something people _hoped_ to be chosen for. He'd heard someone say, it wasn't often that women were chosen but Daryl didn't care. He knew exactly why Negan had chosen Beth, and he didn't like it at all.

As Negan approached them, Daryl came forward, instinctively stepping in front of Beth. Protective and angry.

"No," he said simply to the large man before him.

Negan laughed. "No?" he asked.

"No. Don't take her. Take me."

Negan leaned forward, placing his chin on Daryl's shoulder, turning his head towards him, so close he could feel his breath on his ear. "Abso-fucking-lutely not."

"Why?" Daryl heard himself say.

"'Cause I don't want to _fuck_ you."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _One - Thank you for so much support on my last chapter and story in general. It's so very appreciated. I definitely needed a positive push and so many of you said very kind things so I just wanted to say THANK YOU! :)_

 _Two - I will promise you all that Negan will NOT rape Beth. This is not that kind of story and Negan is not that kind of character._

 _Three - Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites. Follow me on Twitter camurray4688 and Tumblr caitlinwritesstuff._


	8. Chapter 8 - The Run

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 8 - The Run

* * *

When Daryl was taken away that night by Dwight, Beth knew she'd been very wrong about Negan.

Daryl had lunged at Negan after the announcement in a very animalistic sort of way and Beth was instantly reminded of Daryl at the farm. Quick to anger and terrifying to confront. He was aggressive and pissed about everything. He'd have ripped your head off if you'd threatened the group.

But Beth was all that was left of that group, so he'd knocked Negan to the floor and got a few good punches in, drawing blood from Negan's lip, his nose, before Dwight and another man peeled him off him. Daryl thrashed against them, grunting and yelling and Beth found herself trying to hush him as she had so many times before. But before, they'd been alone - it had been just them, and calming him had been easy.

Now, Beth was standing in Negan's hut as Sherry patched him up, staring at the floor, trying not to shake too much because she could no longer hear Daryl's yelling after he'd been dragged away. She imagined - or rather, tried to convince herself, that he'd been knocked out. She couldn't bare thinking something worse had happened.

Dwight had pulled a gun. The first they'd seen at the community since they'd come to the island. She knew the guys in the fields had assault rifles, but it seemed weapon-free where they lived. Now, Beth realized, there was actually something for everyone to be afraid of. Somehow the hidden weapons were more terrifying than ones that were outright used. They were used as a means of control. Not as a means of protection anymore.

"Beth," Negan said her name and she turned to him, trying very hard not to give him a glare, "you rest up," he said. "We leave first thing in the morning."

She nodded at him, still for a moment, then moved to go towards her hut.

It felt large and incredibly empty when she entered. Daryl's hammock, bare. His boots still laced up and at the foot. She realized, with a sad sob that left her mouth against her will, that this would be the first night she'd spent without her companion in four months, one week, and two days.

* * *

It was dark and he was bleeding. He could taste iron on his lips and feel the incredible swelling over his right eye. He tried to remember what happened. Negan. Beth. Her going on a run.

Oh _fuck_.

He sat up, his head spinning. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was sitting in a room of sorts, the only light visible from the single door that closed him in. It was made from slotted wood, so he made a beeline towards it.

But as he moved, there was a very persistent tug on his ankle - cool metal that slid down, like a bracelet. A shackle. He looked behind himself, trying to make out the wall he'd left behind him - it was solid, made of concrete. There was a chain connected to it, cemented into the wall. His eyes followed it, all the way to his ankle.

He was chained to the wall.

* * *

Beth couldn't sleep. The hammock was no longer comfortable. The quiet of the night was no longer reassuring. Her anxiety was overwhelming and the fear was even worse. It consumed her. Ate at her skin, invading her brain and devoured her, until the morning came. She was sure now, more than ever, that Negan was looking at her to become one of his wives.

Sherry entered her hut as the sun rose, dumping a new bag of clothes on the floor.

"Beth," she said softly, coming to her side. Beth's eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Sherry came into view slowly, peering over her, making sure she was still breathing.

"Hi," Beth managed to whisper.

"Brought you some clothes." She paused, looking away, like she was shy. "Don't be afraid. Things are gonna be okay," she said. "I promise. They're aren't as bad as they seem."

She wanted to laugh at her. How could she say that, after everything that had happened the night before? How could she promise something like that?

"I used to be married to Dwight," Sherry continued, her voice trembling. "We survived. Barely. Found out about this place from a friend who'd heard of it in passing. And I'm so glad we did. We wouldn't have survived out there, in that world. We weren't built for it." She paused, sounding a little unsure. "I don't think you are either."

"It's better than being trapped here," Beth argued, her voice sounding small.

"No," Sherry said, shaking her head. "It's not. Movin' from place to place, tryin' to build some semblance of a life with no time to establish any sort of safety?" her voice rose a little as she spoke. "That ain't a life. This here - this is a _life_. We can build this place, make it self-sufficient. Already have. If the worst thing I've had to do is sleep with Negan - take care of him or be loyal to him, to earn me and Dwight's keep, it's worth it."

Beth blinked a few times, then turned to face Sherry. She was a complete stranger and so, she didn't understand why she was opening up to Beth like this.

"Why not leave?" Beth asked, sitting up in her hammock. The air this early was still warm, but she still give a small shiver anyway. "Go to another island. Somewhere else that was safe? Why's it gotta be here?"

"There are no other safe places," Sherry said, shaking her head. "We don't know what's out there. And even if we did - it's not worth the risk."

"So you're just willing to leave him and be with Negan?" Beth exclaimed.

Sherry sighed. "You don't understand."

"I could never do that," Beth said, under her breath. "Not to _myself_. And not to someone I loved."

The woman retreated, making her move to walk out of the hut, a sad frown painted on her face. "See how you feel in a few days," Sherry said. "He might grow on you. You could learn to love him."

"Never," Beth whispered, though she was unsure if Sherry heard her or not.

"He'll expect you in twenty minutes."

And with that, she left.

* * *

Beth had dressed quietly, going to the bathroom to wash her face and get herself together before she journeyed over to Negan's hut. Her eyes darted around to her surroundings as she went, searching for Daryl, hoping _somehow_ , even though she knew she was being stupid, he would somehow appear.

But he didn't.

When she arrived at his hut, Negan was getting dressed himself, pulling a white t-shirt over his thick chest, then giving his back a good stretch before he looked at Beth. He gave her an ear-to-ear smile, strolling up to her smoothly, ignoring the other scattered wives beside him. When he reached her, she realized he smelt like _aftershave_ and wondered how the fuck he got aftershave in a world like this. She found that it made her angry that he had something so blatantly foolish.

"Well _hi_ ," he breathed, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side.

Beth stumbled over her feet, resisting, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. Being near the man was making her ill.

"Hello," she replied politely as he released her, regaining her balance. "You ready to go?" she asked.

"Say!" Negan exclaimed, eyeing her, "you eager to go? Get some one-on-one time with 'ol Negan?"

She looked up at him to meet his eyes - chocolate brown and painfully handsome. She glared at him as she spoke. "Ready to get it over with, is all."

He was still smiling at her. "Well, we'll see how much you enjoy my company by the end of our little trip."

His words made her stomach churn. The way he was leering at her. Watching her. Touching her without any regard for her comfort. She supposed that was the nature of the world - the way things were. He was in charge, and so, he got what he wanted. It wasn't right - in fact, Beth thought it was pretty disgusting. She inwardly scolded herself for brushing Daryl's warnings off earlier. They needed to get off this island.

Negan had started walking, and so Beth followed him as they made their way through the community. He waved to people here and there - most of whom were just waking up, coming to their huts, to watch them head out for their journey.

As they passed a hut, Beth saw Dwight appear, carrying a few bags of something, and he joined their footsteps, falling in line with Negan in front of Beth.

"Great day for a run," he said to Negan.

"That's right," Negan said, sounding completely uninterested in Dwight.

"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" Dwight asked.

"Fuck, Dwight," Negan said, sounding annoyed now, "you just are _relentless_. I don't want you to come with! My girl Beth here can handle herself just fine. You'll just hold us back."

From _what_? Beth found herself thinking, a little fear rising in her throat. She tasted bile, her stomach turning as they left the community behind them, venturing farther into the woods of the island. There was no clear path to anywhere - it looked almost like Negan and Dwight had just chosen a route to nowhere, and taken it, but Beth thought that may have been the trick to keeping people here. Hide the boats and no one can leave.

Although, people like Sherry, didn't seem to want to leave. They'd seemed to make their peace with how this place was run, which confused Beth to no end.

They walked for what felt like miles - mostly in silence - Negan and Dwight making small talk. Beth stayed back, trying to remember the path - remember her surroundings - each detail that they were passing, so that she could find her way back with Daryl. Thought, after a while - she started to feel dizzy and unsure of herself - all of the greenery looked exactly the same.

Finally, they reached a break through the trees, the ocean visible in the distance. The sun came overhead, warm and bright, glazing over her milk white skin. They all stepped out onto the white sand - much like the sand Beth and Daryl had encountered when they first stepped foot on the island. Beth's eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, and she glanced around - watching Negan and Dwight as they ventured over towards a cluster of rocks that led out into the water.

Attached to the rocks was a boat that rocked gently in the water, bumping its side every so often into the solid rock. The ocean was calm - a beautiful turquoise blue, and the smell of sea salt lingered in the air.

"Beth," Negan said, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Come over here."

She obliged, through reluctantly, stomping through the sand over towards the edge of the water.

She followed Negan's lead, leaving Dwight back on shore, out into the water and towards the edge of the boat. It was a small speedboat, with a single long seat and a steering wheel. There wasn't much room in it at all, and Beth could see why Negan hadn't wanted Dwight to come with - she wasn't exactly sure he'd even fit. There seemed to be storage spaces underneath the bow, where she assumed they'd stash whatever it was they were looking to find out on the run.

The water instantly soaked through her boots and the tips of her shorts. She was thankful it was still warm and hoped that wouldn't change wherever they were going. She wondered what it was like where they were going - would it be from where her and Daryl left? Or somewhere else? She wanted to know, but didn't dare ask.

Negan turned to help her up the side into the boat, his smile wide as he did so. His hands wandered all over her legs, up her thighs and lingered on her ass before she hurled herself into the boat, finding her footing and taking a seat.

She watched Negan turned back towards Dwight to grab the bags he was holding, wave a quick goodbye and head back to the boat. He threw in two backpacks, then climbed in himself, tipping the boat dangerously as he did so. Beth tried to shift to allow him over towards the drivers side, and he climbed over her, a sly grin on his face as he watched her squirm uncomfortably beneath him.

Finally, they were situated, and she watched as he pulled a chain of keys from his pocket, sticking one into the ignition of the boat, winking at her as he did so.

The boat started with a rumble, and Beth felt sick to her stomach. "Ready for our little _adventure_?" he whispered at her.

Nodding, she turned away from him to look out at the open water, feeling both terrified and angry - but most noticeably - painfully, alone. Her heart ached for Daryl, as her and Negan took off across the ocean.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** To the guest who wrote me a review earlier this week, thank you! So funny, I got that just as I opened up the document to finish this chapter. Hope you enjoyed! And hope you enjoyed "The Beach" - it's one of my favorite movies!_

 _Sorry for the delay in getting this up - I wanted to finish my other fic I started randomly before I came back to this one. Next up - what happens on Beth and Negan's run together? Where exactly is Daryl? Will he ever get un-shackled? Dun dun dun! :)_


	9. Chapter 9 - The Resort

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 9 - The Resort

* * *

Beth was grateful the roar of the engine was enough to muffle their voices. Negan tried to speak with her a few times as they glided across the calm waters, disturbing the perfectly turquoise ocean around them, but she feigned deafness, giving him a small shrug. He still smiled at her, his eyes traveling all over her body in the most invasive sort of way.

She knew what he was doing. He was undressing her with his eyes. She'd seen that look before from the two lovers she'd ever had. She wasn't stupid.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a land mass appeared in the distance, seemingly popping up out of the water and into their line of vision. Beth sat up a little straighter at the sight of it and unable to help herself, looked at Negan hopefully. He gave her a nod, motioning towards it, and she gave a nod back.

As they came closer, she realized, the land mass was large. Fairly larger than the island they were on - but it was still an island. She didn't like the feeling of this in the least - another island? Had he brought her here just to kill her? To rape her? To keep her as a prisoner?

The boat slowed. Beth could very clearly see palm trees and white sand. The island seemed almost identical to the one they'd just left. She was bursting with fear - unable to help herself. Images of the worst possible outcome of this situation flashed through her mind.

Negan paid no mind to Beth while he pulled the boat around the island up to a long dock that extended into the ocean. On the beach in the distance, Beth could see the remnants of what must have been a beach resort. Small tiki huts still sat, abandoned in the sand. Overturned bright blue lounge chairs were scattered about, some buried on the beach and others floating in the shallow water of the ocean.

The boat met the dock with a bump and Negan used a rope to tie the floating structure to it. Beth stood, along with Negan and they both scrambled to the dock, flinging their backpacks up too. And then, Negan handed Beth a knife.

She turned it over in her hands. It was a decent size - a small spearpoint with a black handle. "Will I need this?" she heard herself asking, regretting the question instantly.

Negan chuckled. "Give the girl a knife and she asks me if she needs it!" he exclaimed sarcastically. He looked at her, eyes twinkling mischievously - that seemed to just be the way he looked at _everybody_. "Yes," Negan replied, this time a little more seriously. He slipped the backpack over his shoulders. "There'll be walkers. And, we're fairly close to the mainland here - never know what might show up."

Beth copied Negan, slipping her own backpack over her shoulders and followed him as he began his walk down the dock towards the beach. "What is this place?" she asked.

"Used to be a resort," he replied. "Found this place a few months ago. Virtually un-touched. You wouldn't believe how many people came here to try and get away from what was happening. Didn't do them any fuckin' good," he said morbidly. "Still died, just the same as everyone else."

Beth didn't respond to that.

They walked in silence, down the long dock, onto the beach, past the overturned chairs and little tiki huts. Beth noticed there was an abandoned beach bar of which most of the alcohol had been cleaned out of. This must have been where they got all of their liquor for the parties they held.

Further still, through the thick palm trees, they emerged on a cemented area. There were two built-in pools, both green with debris. One of them had a pool bar - also empty, and an outdoor restaurant that had long been left alone. All of this surrounded a large building that was unmistakably a hotel. It rose high into the sky - maybe seven stories tall or so, Beth guessed.

"Cleared the outside out ages ago," Negan said casually. "Been going floor by floor, room by room - seeing what we can find. You'd be surprised how much shit tourists have."

Beth gave a hum of approval, following Negan to a revolving door. He pushed it forward, and together they entered the lobby of what used to be a very beautiful hotel. High ceilings, wide crystal chandeliers, massive floor to ceiling windows and mahogany desks and counters. Bright white wallpaper still lit up the room even though there was a distinct smell of death. The lobby was gigantic, decorated with absurdly expensive furniture, and yet another bar that had been stripped, just like the others. All would have looked normal if it wasn't for the scattered corpses, dead for ages, littered across the floor.

Negan walked through, avoiding the bodies, not taking a moment to observe their surroundings. He went over towards the front desk, fumbling behind the counter for something. She saw him pull out a flash of white plastic - a key card, then begin walking through the lobby once more.

"What happened here?" she asked, motioning towards the dead bodies.

Negan sighed, as if he was annoyed. "When Dwight and I first came through this place, it was roaming with the dead. Killed 'em all down here. Virus must'a swept through pretty quickly and killed everyone. A damn miracle for us," he commented, grimly." He turned to walk again, tapping the key card against his pant leg.

"Will that work?" Beth asked, following his footsteps. "The room key?"

"Locks to the rooms are battery powered," Negan explained. "Most of 'em still work."

He passed the elevators, then turned down a narrow corridor towards a door labeled 'Stairs'. Right beside the door was a large flashlight - he picked it up, clicked it on, pulled back the door and stood in front of it, holding it in place for Beth to enter.

She raised an eyebrow at him and went in, entering the darkness. Negan followed her, shining the flashlight into the area, and they walked up the stairs together.

"How many rooms have you searched?" she asked, feeling an overwhelming need to break the silence.

"All of the first and second floor. Half of the third," he said as they climbed the stairs.

Beth counted the steps, and six short stairwells later, they were at another door labeled '3'. Negan shone the light on the handle, pulled and they entered a new hallway.

If it was possible, this floor reeked of death even more than the lobby. It was carpeted with peeling wallpapers and remnants of rooms service trays rotting on the floors. A maids cart was left in the hallway, tipped over, resting against the wall.

Negan made his way to the left, moving with a clear destination in mind. Beth hated to admit it, but this was a smart idea. A resort that was likely filled with people before the turn. Abandoned belongings and hundreds of rooms to search - likely all with mini bars as well. Each room would be locked from the outside with no way for the walkers to emerge from the other side. It was a safe and sort of brilliant.

They were about halfway down the hallway, the corridor getting darker with each step, when Negan stopped in front of a door. He swiped the key card, and as promised, the lock beeped and he pushed it open without much effort.

The smell that immediately washed over her was unbearable, Beth thought. She realized it had been some time since she'd been in any place that was consumed by the dead. Holding back a gag, she entered the room behind Negan.

A groan and a shriek alerted them that they were definitely not alone. She went on the defense immediately, raising her knife up, ready to attack.

The room was bright - a drastic change from the hallway. A open glass sliding door was on the opposite end of the room, a small breeze blowing through causing the sheer white curtain to billow. Under any other circumstances, Beth may have thought it was simple and sort of beautiful, but instead, from the corner of her eye, in the bathroom to her right - she saw a body come out towards her. It flung itself at her and very swiftly, she sunk her knife into what had once been a young woman. Her eyes closed, mouth sagged, and she collapsed, instantly, to the floor.

Negan was watching her - like he had before, nodding his head in approval and they moved into the rest of the room, side by side. She hated needing to rely on Negan for anything.

Another body lunged at them, this time latching onto Negan and he quickly plunged his own knife into the skull, causing the corpse of a man to crumble at the knees.

"Honeymooners," Negan said, cracking a smile at Beth, like he thought it was just the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. Beth shot him a disgusted look and his smile faded. "Search the bathroom," he instructed. "I'll get the rest of the room."

She did as she was told, moving carefully into the bathroom, her eyes scanning the countertops. There were a few things there - deodorant, toothpaste, birth control pills. She reached for her backpack, and suddenly, with a tug on her ankles, she fell to the floor.

Startled, she screamed, because the hand that grabbed her was pure bone - the skin leathery and brown. Underneath the sink was the corpse attached to it, growling at her, desperate for her living flesh. The few remaining teeth it boasted clinked together viciously. Beth had put her knife in her back pocket, thinking the room was clear and struggled on the floor against the walker who had managed to make its way up her legs.

Arms tangled between hers and fingers grasped at her face and Beth was grunting and yelling, trying to kill the monster overpowering her. Fingers fumbled at the back of her jeans but she couldn't feel the knife.

The dead's breath was on her neck - she could feel each chomp as it came closer. Eager. She was going to die. She was going to die here with stupid fucking Negan while Daryl was maybe being held prisoner, or being tortured, or worse. Closing her eyes, the only thing she saw was Daryl. Daryl after the prison, Daryl at the funeral home, Daryl in the woods. Kissing Daryl - tasting him. Loving him.

There was a swift sound of metal and something solid collapsed on her chest. Her eyes shot wide and there was Negan, standing over her, pulling his knife from the walker's head.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed.

Beth scrambled out from underneath the body, to her feet and from the bathroom, willing the tears to stay behind her eyes. She wouldn't dare cry in front of Negan.

He followed her, out into the room where she'd pressed herself up against the wall. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and she was aware of her heavy breathing, the sweat that had broken out underneath her armpits. She focused, solely, on trying not to cry.

Negan, however, had other plans. He was standing in front of her - way too close for comfort. "That was a close one, eh?" he said to her, his face so close to hers that she could feel the breath of each word he spoke.

She chose to look up, which was probably a mistake. He was studying her, drinking in her face - her expressions. He seemed _captivated_ by the fear that had just consumed her. Negan moved, placed one hand up against the wall beside her. She could feel his forearm on her bare shoulder - rough and warm against her own pink skin.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Negan asked her. His other hand came forward, landing on her shoulder and she recoiled - shrinking in onto herself. Hating what she thought was going to happen next. "A _thank you_?" he whispered. His lips were at her chin now, his breathing level and controlled.

"Thank you," Beth managed to mumble, wishing she could disappear into the wall behind herself. She closed her eyes, hands curled into fists at her side.

Lips touched her jaw gently and she flinched as they did so, but that didn't stop Negan in the least. He worked his way up her jawline, across her cheek - to her lips. Each kiss felt like a knife tearing into her heart. She felt sick - physically ill, her stomach lurching from both lack of food and inward disgust at the man who stood before her. The man who was touching her. Kissing her. She hated him.

And then, he was working on her lips. She held hers stiff - straight as a line as he pecked foolishly at her. She allowed her eyes to open, to look at him - this beast of a man. This foul, misogynistic, power hungry man and her arms came out in front of her without another thought, and she pushed him away, ducking out from underneath his arm on her, leaving him to fumble, loosing his footing so that he had to catch his balance against the wall.

"What are you _doing_?" Beth cried at him, lunging towards the door of the hotel room. "I almost fucking died!"

"Trying to make a shitty situation better," Negan growled at her, crossing his arms in front of himself as he looked her up and down. "Showing you what you can _have_ , with me." He grinned widely at her. "I know Sherry talked to you."

"You want me to be your fucking _wife_?" Beth hissed at him, anger bubbling to her surface. "How many will that make now, huh?" she asked. "Seven? Eight?" She scoffed at him.

"You're lucky you're not dead!" Negan shouted, the suddenness of it making Beth jump. "You're so fucking lucky. Kept that man of yours alive even after he tried to fucking jump me - I'm the most fucking reasonable person still left on this god damn planet sweetheart." He turned to the wall, bringing his fist up, then punched into the drywall, yelling as he did so. His knuckles disappeared into a hole that formed.

She took a step back, fearful from the sudden anger. Her hand found the knife, still in her back pocket. Wrapping her fingers around the hilt, she put her back to the surface of the hotel room door and tried to steady her shaking limbs.

"God damn it Beth!" he shouted, pulling back his fist, fingers dripping with fresh blood. He wiped his knuckles on the back of his jeans. "I just _have_ to have you," he said fiercely. "But I can wait." He flashed that smile again - only this time it looked purely evil - sadistic, even. He licked his lips as his eyes undressed her again. "Until you're ready. And you will be. No work duty. All the food, water, and _dick_ you'd like," he grabbed his crotch as he said the last part.

She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing it would be a cold day in hell when she would ever want to _willingly_ be this man's wife. Crossing her own arms, she thought for a moment. Maybe - _maybe_ this would work in her favor.

"If I think about it," she said slowly. "Would you let Daryl live among the community again?"

Negan's eyes twinkled at her. "Thatta girl," he said. "Yeah, I'll let that motherfucker come back to us," he chuckled. "As long as he doesn't fuck up again. Or, you know," he laughed, "try to fuck you."

Beth nodded at him. "Of course."

"And," he thought for a moment more, "you have a _week_."

"To think about it," she reiterated.

"To make a decision," Negan said. "Plenty of time for me to convince you of what a _pleasure_ I am to be with."

Beth felt like rolling her eyes at him.

"Okay Negan," she said. "A week."

* * *

They searched five more rooms before their bags were filled with many of the items people on the island were requesting. Once they were sure they couldn't carry any more, and Beth was sure Negan had run out of sex jokes and good things about himself to tell her, they headed back towards the boat they had docked.

The sun was a bit lower, the air a bit cooler - the sun threatening to set in just about an hour. She thought for a moment to ask Negan if it was really smart to bring the boat back as nightfall was on its way, but immediately convinced herself otherwise. A night, alone, with Negan, was not something that she wanted to even think about.

So together, they climbed back into the boat, their journey complete.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Lie

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 10 - The Lie

* * *

He laid on his back, stomach clenching with hunger, eyes still foggy with sleep. He'd heard her voice. With a grunt, he rolled onto his side, bringing his body up to his knees. He crawled towards the light of the door, the shackle on his body tugging on his ankle, reminding him he wouldn't reach it. Defeated, he squeezed his eyes closed.

As if on cue, the door swung open and Daryl was blinded for a moment as a figure entered.

"Well Daryl," a deep voice bellowed, "today's your _lucky_ day."

"How's that?" Daryl managed to mumble angrily up at Negan.

Negan laughed.

"You're gettin' out of here," he informed him simply.

It was a trick. It had to be. His first instinct was that Negan had done something awful to Beth.

"Where is she?" he growled at Negan.

"Who?" Negan asked.

"Fuck you," Daryl hissed. "Where's Beth?"

Negan chuckled again. "Oh she's here," he said. "She's _just_ fine. Gave her a little proposition. A little somethin' to think about. Something she won't be able to resist." Negan squatted then, coming down to Daryl's level to look him in the eyes. "You won't have to worry about Beth for much longer," he said. "And that means, I won't have to worry about you much longer either."

Then, he smiled, stood up, and unlocked Daryl's ankle shackle, releasing him. Daryl scrambled away from the chains, rubbing his sore ankle as he made the move to stand up. "Fucking asshole," he whispered under his breath.

He'd threatened him, and Daryl knew that threat was real. Negan didn't scare him - he knew Beth would never fall for one of his dumb propositions. He was more worried that he'd hurt Beth, or worse, made some kind of perverted move on her.

"Maybe I am," Negan said with a smile, before turning his back to him and leaving the room.

The high sun outside blinded him. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust until finally, his surroundings came into view. There were crops and trees in the immediate distance. Off to his right, he saw Negan's figure moving towards a smaller one. Blonde and thin, Daryl knew instantly that it was Beth.

Though his body was sore and his eyes still a bit fuzzy, he jogged towards them just in time to see Negan pull his head lower and swipe a kiss across Beth's cheek.

Daryl saw red. The anger in him was uncontrollable. Beth stood still, her eyes closed, a slight tremble in her body. She hated him. Daryl could tell just from her body language. Everything about it screamed that she wanted to run away.

Negan looked over his shoulder then at Daryl, and winked.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man, furiously fighting back the urge to maul him, but kept his gait steady until he reached Beth.

"Beth," he whispered, and she turned towards him, her wide eyes looking up at him. She had that blank look on her face - the one she had before she was ready to fall apart. The skin underneath her eyes was red, as if she'd been awake for nights on end, and she was chewing her lip furiously. "You okay?" he asked, his eyes traveling across her face.

"Yeah," she answered with a deep breath. "Daryl, I…"

"Did he do anythin' to you?" Daryl heard himself say, cutting her off. "He hurt you, or try anythin'? I'll kill him, Beth, if he did anythin' to you…"

She looked down, at her feet. She was ashamed of something. "No," she said, shaking her head. She looked back up at him, meeting his gaze. "It's okay. He didn't hurt me or…anythin'. He's just…awful."

Daryl felt like his heart was going to stop. The anger, the frustration, the _guilt_ was piling up inside of him that he felt like he might explode. He had the sudden urge to hug her. He'd been so worried about her and Jesus, he _missed_ her. So without thinking about anything too much, he pulled her into his arms.

He was met with surprise - a little resistance, until he felt her melt against his chest, nestling into the perfect spot on his breastbone. He leaned in a little, just to inhale her scent. He'd been so used to having Beth with him. Spoiled. He'd taken her for granted.

"God Beth," he spoke into her hair, "I'm so fucking sorry we're in this mess."

"It's not your fault," she said shaking her head. She was warm and small, but her presence felt so large to him. It was something he couldn't describe.

Beth pulled away from him, dropping her arms to her sides. There was something else. "What is it?" he asked gruffly.

"Negan - he asked me to be…ya know, one of his…wives." She choked the last word out unpleasantly.

"And what'd you say?" Daryl asked, afraid of the answer. Not that he thought she'd do it willingly. Just that he knew exactly how Negan would have threatened her.

"I told him I'd think about it. If he let you live among the community again."

"You serious?"

She nodded.

"Beth. No." His heart was pounding to match the rise in his blood pressure.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What else was I supposed to do Daryl?" she hissed. "After you attacked him, he told me you were lucky to still be alive!" Her breath caught in her throat, and she paused for a minute, looking away from him. "What was I supposed to do?"

She was right, he realized. He'd put them both in danger. Still. The idea of Beth having to sacrifice herself for him was too much for him to bear. The anger built, the thought of Negan alone with Beth, with his big smile, planted across his smug face. Daryl felt like he was going to explode.

Without another word or another glance at her, he spun on his heel and stormed away from Beth. He knew he should say something, he should tell her it wasn't her fault. But the anger had bubbled to the point of no return, and he left her behind him, calling out his name.

* * *

The sun had lowered significantly by the time he'd found rest on the side of a small creek. After taking a drink and washing his face, and walking the adrenaline out of his body, he was beginning to feel better. Daryl realized it had been a few days now since he'd actually killed a walker. Usually any frustration he'd had could be taken out on jamming a knife into a rotting brain, but here that hadn't been an option. Maybe that was why he'd burst as suddenly as he did.

He knew that wasn't the real reason, but the least he could do was try to convince himself.

The stream ran clear past him, over silver pebbles and gray sand. The sun above let him see his reflection. He stared at himself for quite some time, his eyes working over his thick eyebrows, overgrown hair, and crooked nose. All he'd wanted was to give Beth a slice of happiness. He hadn't wanted this. He wanted things to be good for them. But nothing ever seemed to swing in their favor.

His boot came down into the water, splashing cool liquid into the air, angrily breaking up his reflection.

Suddenly, a loud moan came from the distance. Instinctively, Daryl rose, reaching for a knife that wasn't there. Negan's men had taken it. But the source of the noise was unmistakable.

A walker.

His eyes narrowed in confusion. They'd been told there weren't any walkers on the island. So what had he heard? His curiosity spiked. His reflection forgotten, he headed in the direction of the sound.

What he found, a quarter of a mile later, was exactly what he'd thought he'd heard. Moans, groans, bumps, and bites came from the inside of a small, wooden hut, similar to the one Daryl had been locked in himself. It was a pen full of walkers.

There was a reason they were all locked up here like this. But Daryl wasn't going to take the risk in trying to find out why. Instead, he picked up the sharpest rock he could find and unlatched the locked wooden door. The distinct smell of rotten flesh and decaying bodies drifted out into the salty air. His stomach turned, the smell much worse than he remembered it being.

The first one stumbled out, and Daryl went to work.

* * *

He didn't know how he made his way back, only that he did. He was soaked in guts, his shirt splattered with brains, arms, and shoulders covered with blood, his face and hair covered with a mixture of the two. He was sure he looked insane waltzing up to their little party in the state he was in, but Daryl didn't care.

At the far end of the hut, Beth sat next to Negan. He had his arm around her, and she leaned into him awkwardly, with raised shoulders and tucked arms. He grinned like a pig in shit, and she looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. It felt like a punch in the gut. Daryl had done this to her.

As soon as Negan got a good look at Daryl though, his smile faded and Beth's jaw dropped. Some of the people around him shrieked as he walked across the large floor of the hut. He supposed he probably looked like a walker himself, covered in blood, moving slowly. But he wasn't going to hurt anyone. Unless it was Negan.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Negan asked angrily, walking up to meet Daryl.

It took Daryl a minute to catch his breath. "Found your walkers."

"Walkers?"

"Your dead. Found 'em all locked up in a little wooden shack a few miles away from here." He looked around at the people, all of whom looked extremely frightened of him.

"Did you kill them, Daryl?" Negan asked.

"Of course I killed them."

A few audible gasps from the crowd around him told him that it wasn't the answer any of them were looking for. Negan frowned at him, crossing his arms. "And _why_ , dear, fucking, GOD, would you go and do that?"

Daryl's eyes widened as he looked back at Negan. "Because they're _walkers._ "

"They're still our people," a woman from the crowd said.

"They're our _family_ ," another man said.

"They're dead," Daryl said, rationally. "They'll eat you. If they escape—"

"Now, now," Negan said with a grimace on his face. "Let's discuss what this is _really_ about."

"Wha—?"

Negan's eyes narrowed at Daryl. "You're just pissed I slept with Beth on our run the other day." He gave him a maniacal smile, then turned to address the crowd around them. "You all saw him the other day! He's uncontrollable! Beth must have told him about our night together, and he killed our _friends - our family_ , in a fit of rage!" His voice rose as he spoke, and to his horror, all Daryl saw were nodding faces.

He dropped the sharp stone he'd still been holding with a thud on the floor and lowered his gaze to find Beth's. But she was looking at the floor, her hands over her mouth in disbelief.

"You're all fucking crazy," Daryl whispered to Negan, before leaving the hut again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whoa! Long hiatus here. Glad to be back. Been working on a personal project for some time now, but I needed a break. Hoping to finish this story soon. I only have three chapters left. Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11 - The Truth

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 11 - The Truth

* * *

 **A/N: Quick disclaimer:** There's some NSFW stuff in this chapter.

* * *

Daryl left before she could register what was happening. These days, things were moving a little too quickly for her liking. Just a few days ago she hadn't even known this place existed. Now she was in the queue to become someone's wife.

After a few minutes of some very creative cursing to Beth and his other wives, Negan drifted off to the side in an effort to calm down some of the people in hysterics, still upset by Daryl's proclamation. Beth took her opportunity to slip out quietly.

She took off, her bare feet pounding against the floor of the hut, then against the sand until she found herself in _their_ hut. The one she shared with Daryl. He wasn't there, so she kept running. She ran past the bushes, trees, and rocks they saw when they'd first come to the island, until she found herself in the midst of the jungle, finally reaching a clearing.

She found herself at the waterfall, the one she and Daryl had jumped from only days before. Around the small lake, the trees cleared, letting the moonlight shine down into the water, illuminating the surface so that it looked otherworldly. Moss and overgrown brush scattered the sides, hiding some of the rocks from view in a beautiful, natural mosaic.

A shift in the water caught her attention, and she turned abruptly, hands raised, ready to fight. The face that looked back at her, however, was dirty, sad, and scared. She knew that look. Daryl stood shirtless, waist-high in the water, washing the blood and gore from his body, trembling with anger.

The moment she saw him, she dropped her arms to her side.

"Daryl," she said softly.

He shrunk into himself, carefully lowering his body into the water before he turned to face her. "You didn't do it, did you?" he asked slowly, wading closer to the edge.

Without realizing what she'd done, Beth came to the edge of the lake. "Didn't do what?" she asked.

"That," he said, pointing back towards the community. "You didn't _sleep with Negan_? He didn't _do_ anything to you?" He paused to study her. "Did he?"

A lump formed in her throat. "Daryl, no." She shook her head before sitting at the edge of the water. "No. Nothing like that. He kissed me, but…" she sighed, "it was awful. I didn't want that. I don't want that." She looked up to meet his eyes. Her stomach somersaulted. "I want you. I always have."

He looked at her, mouth half open. She could see his mind working. He was struggling with something. Then, without warning, he hoisted himself up to the rock's ledge, took her head into his hands, and kissed her.

Wet hands cupped her face as she tasted Daryl. He was hungry, his tongue lapping at her mouth, kissing her so forcefully she thought he might bruise her lips. It felt good, and right, all of the things it hadn't felt like the first time she'd tried to kiss him. She melted into him, bringing her body closer, running her hands up his neck and into his tangle of hair. Somehow, he tasted familiar, tasted like he smelled, smoky, musky, and salty.

His lips were soft, wet, and eager, his tongue licking her bottom lip, finding its way into her mouth. She found it with her own, opening her mouth to let him explore. Kissing Daryl was like finding her way home again, it was like she'd dreamed it would be, passionately intense like they couldn't get enough of one another.

He moved then, shifting his head so that his lips met her cheek, leaving sloppy kisses across her jaw, back down to her neck. His hands were on her, grasping at her shoulders, awkwardly holding her, quickly moving to the nape of her neck. She shivered with anticipation at his touch. Daryl came up for air, looking at her underneath his hooded eyes, the blue of his irises a stark contrast to his tanned skin.

He looked for an answer from her. For permission.

She wore a halter dress that Sherry had fished from her pile of clothes, a plain black one she thought Negan might like. But Negan was the furthest thing from Beth's thoughts right now as she reached behind her neck, fumbling with the knot. She heard Daryl's breath hitch in his throat as she untied the straps, and brought them down with her hands.

Beth wore no bra, and as the straps fell, so did the front of her dress, revealing her chest, and pointed pink nipples. Daryl's gaze fell to her breasts. He was still close enough to kiss her, and that's exactly what he did, pressing his lips to hers again, inhaling her. She kissed him back, leaning into his chest, teasing her sensitive flesh.

His tongue found hers again, and they danced. The pain they'd endured, the battles they'd overcome, the loss that had left holes in their hearts, all of that and more seemed to make its way into this kiss. It was ardent, forceful, _hungry_. There wasn't enough of Daryl. She wanted more.

Her fingers found his back, traced the scars she knew were there, stopping at the curve of his rear. He was naked from the waist down, she realized, hands moving to his hips. At her touch, he moaned into her mouth, letting his hands find her hips, fingers pressing into the fabric that had pooled there from her dress. She broke away, and not taking her eyes from him, slid her dress and underwear off, leaving them discarded on the rocks beside them.

Together, they slipped into the cool water of the lake, letting the water lap at their skin as they sunk beneath the surface. Beth felt the sand at the bottom of the lake slip between her toes, and then a hand around her waist as Daryl pulled her body towards her through the water. His lips were on hers immediately, with such force that he pushed her up against the rock ledge. Her back pressed into the stones, a little painfully, but not entirely unpleasant.

Daryl's lips worked over hers, pausing only to suck on her lower lip. As he pushed up against her, she felt him, his strong thighs, and bobbing cock against the insides of her legs. Her heart fluttered and her heat flooded, as she reached up and around his neck to pull him closer towards her.

Adjusting slightly, she allowed herself to hover over him. The water carried her body effortlessly, allowing her to wrap her legs around the small of his back. As they kissed, Beth lowered herself down on him, and Daryl filled her completely, pushing up into her center with excruciating delicacy. The kiss had slowed, and Daryl broke it as he thrust up into her as far as he could go. His forehead rested against hers and he groaned, slowly pulling himself out and back in again.

She grasped onto his shoulders for dear life, crossing her ankles behind his back as he drilled into her, panting with each thrust. Her hands absentmindedly traced over his face, feeling his skin, the coarse hair of his beard. Suddenly he was kissing her again, in between his heavy breaths, small nips at her mouth reminded her that this was _Daryl_. She was making love with Daryl.

The water splashed around them, creating small waves as their motion rippled the surface beside them. "Beth," Daryl cried into her neck, letting his lips linger on her skin as he whispered her name. She gripped him, digging her nails into his back and he responded to it by slamming himself into her. The jolt of the new pressure brought a pleasant rush of euphoria over Beth, as Daryl's pelvis hit her in just the right spot, the tip of his cock brushing her inside, making her body want to burst with pleasure.

His breaths came shorter, his body heavy over hers, and he was squeezing his eyes closed, biting his lip as he thrust into her. She would be bruised in the morning from the rocks at her back, but she didn't care. All she cared about right now was Daryl, and what his body was doing to her.

Daryl let out a breath he'd been fighting to hold on to, bringing his lips to her ear. "I'm gonna—" he panted, trying to catch his breath, "Beth, I'm gonna…"

"It's okay," she told him, barely able to catch her own breath. She gave into her own pleasure, throwing her head back so that it gently connected with the rock behind her. She let out a low moan, as she rode her orgasm, gently rocking her hips against Daryl. He too had reached his hilt, spilling himself inside of her, his head sagging as he shuddered with release. His arms came around her, holding her body flush against his, hugging her to himself, as he came down from his wave.

The movement of the water stilled, as they floated, still wrapped together underneath the surface. "God, Beth," Daryl said, nuzzling his nose against her neck, as he slipped out of her slowly. The loss of fullness felt disappointing, so she grasped onto him tighter.

"Mmm?" she asked, laying her head against his chest.

"You have no idea…how long…I've wanted…you know."

She pulled away from him slightly. "Really?" She cocked an eyebrow.

He nodded.

"Why didn't you kiss me back then?" she asked.

He shook his head, trying to find his words. "You were in a bad place," he told her. "The disappointment from the house, four months of no leads on anyone from the prison. I didn't want…to take advantage of that."

"It had nothing to do with that," she tried to explain.

"I know. I was just trying to…do the right thing. But, I couldn't wait any longer," he continued. "I should have told you how I felt about you a long time ago. I just didn't think…"

"What?" she asked.

He looked down, shyly. "I didn't think something like this could happen between us."

She was at a loss for words. "I'm glad it did."

He looked back up at her, with a piercing gaze. His eyes were soft, happy, content, for this moment now, between them. But she knew that could change in an instant.

"I'm sorry," Beth heard herself say quietly.

Daryl released his grip on her, moving back to take a look at her. "What?"

"The Negan thing, I'm sorry about it all."

"Why are you apologizing?" He cupped her chin with his hand. "This is _not_ your fault."

"You have a target on your back now," she said. "And that's my fault. It'll be hard to get out of here now."

"None of this is your fault," he assured her. "And we'll find a way. I promise."

* * *

 **A/N:** Some sexy goodness, hope you enjoyed! Will be working on the last two chapters this weekend!


	12. Chapter 12 - The Traitors

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 12 - The Traitors

* * *

They decided not to go back. Their game plan to get off the island was shaky at best and relied on Beth finding the boat she and Negan had taken to the beach resort. But it was a plan, and certainly better than returning to where Negan was. If he hadn't realized Beth was missing by now, he would soon. And Daryl would have hell to pay.

Leaving was the only option.

As they moved through the brush of the forest, someone nearby yelled out in pain. Daryl grabbed Beth by the arm and forced her to her knees, the pair hiding behind an overgrown bush. Gaining a better vantage point, Daryl peered out from the side, only to see Negan dragging a wounded man through the forest, with Dwight following on his heels.

"Just kill me!" the man screamed. He cupped his hand to his neck, fingers wet and sticky with blood. "Please!"

"Shut the fuck up," Negan said, yanking him along. Squinting into the distance, Daryl noticed a familiar sight. The shack with the walkers he had killed was just beyond them, and Negan was dragging the man towards it. Forcefully, he shoved him into the shack, entering behind him. Dwight handed him a rope from the outside. After a moment more, Negan re-emerged, a scowl planted on his face.

"God damn," he said aloud. "Those fuckers really fucked us. Let's just hope the guys were able to take down the fucking corpse that bit him in the first place."

"Shouldn't we just kill him?" Dwight suggested.

Negan spun on his heel, slapping Dwight across the face with a loud _crack_ that echoed through the forest. "No!" he shouted. "I want people to have a reminder of what they _become_ now when they die."

"Yes sir," Dwight replied quietly, looking at the ground.

"Now we have to find the girl and that redneck hillbilly fuck," Negan growled through his teeth. He stormed past Dwight, back towards the community. "Let's go."

The two men walked away into the night, leaving Beth and Daryl to listen to the hurt man's painful moans echoing from the shack. He looked at Beth who winced in pain, empathizing with whatever pain the man was feeling.

"Daryl," she said softly, looking up at him. "We have to—"

"I know," he said, moving from behind the bush and towards the shack. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door, to find the man tied up. He laid on the dirty floor, the side of neck ripped open from a bite. Blood pooled down his neck and into the dirt. He no longer tried to stop it.

The man opened an eye and looked up at Daryl. "Please," he moaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kill me."

Daryl stared at him, knowing what the kinder option was for this man. Those cowards couldn't even put the poor bastard out of his misery. Gently, Daryl removed his shirt, then bent down on his knee. He pressed the fabric to the man's face, careful to cover his mouth and nose and held it tight. The man made no move to struggle, succumbing to the pressure of Daryl's hands, his body going limp after only a few minutes.

His chest felt tight, his stomach uneasy. He realized as he stood, that he had gotten some blood on his shoe, but he didn't have the energy to try and smear it back into the dirt. Instead, Daryl turned to leave the shack.

He looked out towards the trees and bushes, but the landscape was empty. Beth had moved. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he spun. His heart dropped into his stomach.

Negan stood, holding Beth firmly in his arms with a knife to her throat. Beth's squeezed her eyes shut, her face pointed at the sky. Tears dripped down the sides of her face.

Instinctively, Daryl charged at him, eager to tear the knife away from his grubby hands, but he felt something jam into the side of his head and he stopped in his tracks. Dwight was on his right, holding a pistol to his head.

"Well, well, well," Negan said. "Now _what_ the fuck do you think you're doing here?" Daryl's eyes narrowed at the arrogant man. "Because it _seems_ like you're over here breaking the rules. It _seems_ like you just killed someone I deliberately left alive."

"He was going to die," Daryl said through gritted teeth. "And you were just gonna let him turn."

"Daryl, I don't think you understand what the fuck I'm trying to do here," Negan said slowly. "I'm trying to keep a whole community of people safe, healthy, and thriving. For them to do that, they have to have a leader. And for me to be their leader, they need to have a healthy fear of me." He narrowed his eyes at Daryl. "You just killed that fear."

Negan pulled the knife closer to Beth's neck and she let out a shriek as the blade connected with her skin. Daryl saw a thin red line appear across her throat, and he bit his bottom lip in frustration.

"Now, I'm a _reasonable_ man," Negan continued. "You? Not so much. You've gotten on my last nerve. I've given you too many chances. And you," he turned to Beth who tried her best to recoil from him, "well you're just stupid." He removed the knife from her skin and twisted her body towards him so that their faces almost touched. "I could have given you everything." He took his hand and brushed her hair out of her face.

Daryl flinched forward, unable to help himself. He couldn't stand to watch this shit. Beth was repulsed by Negan. He had no business touching her.

"Fuck you," Beth spat through gritted teeth. Negan smiled at her, reached his arm behind her head and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

"Let's fucking go." He began to walk, pulling Beth along with him.

Dwight jammed the gun into the back of Daryl's head, forcing him forward. They were taking them back to camp.

* * *

The party had quieted down by the time they got there, though people were still casually drinking and smoking. A hush fell over the crowd as Negan and Dwight stormed in with Daryl and Beth in their clutches.

"Good _evening_ ," Negan said loudly, making his way to the front of the crowd. He shoved Beth away from him so forcefully that she fell to her knees with a thud on the floor. Daryl's stomach somersaulted at the sound of her knees on the wood.

Dwight took Negan's cue and slammed the barrel of the gun into the back of Daryl's head, indicating that he wanted him on the floor too. Daryl obeyed, surveying the room as he did so. The people looked frightened, but Daryl knew none of them would dare challenge Negan.

He looked towards Beth, who had lifted her face to scowl at Negan above her. At his glance she shifted, catching his eye, looking at him sadly. It was then he realized, they might die.

"I want you _all_ to see what becomes of someone who comes to this island and doesn't obey the rules!" he bellowed, his eyes wild with fury. "I want you all to see what they become!"

Daryl scooted across the floor, despite the pressure of the gun behind his head, hands reaching for Beth's. She let out a low sob, extending hers to him. He grabbed her hand in his own and tried to think of something - anything to say to her that could make this better.

"I love you, Daryl," she whispered between her sobs. "I love you—"

She was cut off. Negan had grabbed her by the hair again, knife gleaming in his hand. Daryl's scrambled to get to his feet, to fight him, not caring if he got shot, not caring if Negan drove the knife through his chest.

But Negan dropped the knife, dropped his grip on Beth, who scurried away from him immediately. Daryl was confused for a moment until he looked down to see a blade protruding from Negan's middle.

"Oh, fuck," were Negan's last words as his eyes went wide and he fell to his feet. Behind him, Sherry pulled a machete back into her hands, then swiped the blade across his head, disconnecting it clean from his body.

Daryl shielded Beth from the bloodbath, backing away slowly from Sherry and her new weapon. "What the hell?" he asked the crowd of people that surrounded them. They all looked as stunned as he felt.

"Sherry?" Dwight asked, covered in Negan's blood, trembling beside Daryl. His arms fell to his sides.

Sherry let the machete fall from her hands. "I'm…sorry," she said to Dwight. "But, I couldn't do it anymore. None of us could." She turned to the women who stood huddled together at the edge of the hut, not angry, horrified, or sad. They all looked relieved.

"I couldn't either," Dwight admitted. He turned to Daryl and Beth. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for either of you to get hurt." He turned back to Sherry. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"It's okay now," Sherry said to all of them. "Everything is going to be okay."


	13. Chapter 13 - The Haven

**If I Could Breathe**

Chapter 13 - The Haven

* * *

Beth woke, snuggling into the warmth of her blanket. The space felt too big. Too empty. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the invasive sunlight. The wide bed that Daryl had made for them was built for two people, but Daryl was nowhere to be found.

She sat up, finding her balance before she climbed out of her bed. Five months here and their small hut had become a home. Daryl had added walls and windows for some privacy, and others in the community had followed suit. Their space included a bed, a small rug that Beth had woven, chairs, a few tables that Daryl had built for them, and various pieces of nature they'd collected as time had passed.

Daryl had collected a few things from his runs to the resort too. A mirror, a hairbrush, extra clothes, _real_ towels, just to name a few things. Things Beth would never take for granted again. She smiled as she looked throughout the space, wondering where Daryl might have gone off to, but not worrying too much. He'd taken on somewhat of a leadership role within the community, and sometimes got called off to different jobs.

Beth gathered a towel, a bar of soap, and her toothbrush before leaving her hut to find the bathroom. Inside, she took a short shower and brushed her teeth, before returning to the hut to get dressed.

The morning had just begun, the sun sitting low in the sky. Though time had passed, Beth was still in awe of the beauty of the island every single day. The land stretched in all directions until it met the tree line around the huts that had been built. The sky always seemed to be baby blue, the sand always seemed to stay clean and white, and Beth was sure they were living in paradise. The prison felt like another life.

She walked towards the new construction on a larger bathroom that they were working on, waving to a few people who stopped to wish her a good morning. Dwight was there, overseeing the project, smiling at her as she came closer.

"Hi Beth," Dwight greeted her. "Morning!"

"Hi Dwight. You see Daryl this morning?"

He nodded. "Sure, he was over at Jenny's house," he told her. "Passed him no more than ten minutes ago."

"Thanks," Beth nodded at him. "Tell Sherry I'll be by later to drop off some of the new clothes Daryl brought back the other day."

"Will do," Dwight answered, returning to his work.

Beth set off in a different direction, eager to find Daryl. The stroll to Jenny's hut was short and she found Daryl walking away from her front door, a goofy grin planted on his face. His eyes brightened and he rushed up to her, wrapping her in a tight squeeze. It was very un-Daryl like.

"Hi!" Beth said brightly, as he released her. "It's nice to see you too."

Daryl grinned sheepishly at her. "Come with me," he told her, taking her by the hand and leading her back to their hut.

He was giddy. Beth thought he might have run back to the hut if he could have, he seemed so eager to get there. Once they'd finally reached the structure, he pulled her inside, into his arms, bent down, and kissed her.

"Okay," Beth said, giggling into his mouth. "What is it?"

"Okay, so," he said nervously, gripping his hands together as he spoke. "I heard a few weeks ago that Jenny might have something."

"Something?" Beth cocked an eyebrow.

Daryl fumbled into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled white foil wrapper and handed it to Beth. She took it and held it up to have a good look at it. It was skinny, the wrapper announcing the name EPT. A pregnancy test.

"It's nearly expired, but Jenny said it would probably still work," Daryl said, rambling on. "I just thought…yesterday, you said your boobs were sore and you were feeling bloated, and I just thought maybe…"

Beth looked up at him over the wrapped and grinned. She'd had the pregnancy thought too but hadn't mentioned it to Daryl. His excitement was infectious.

"I love you," she said slowly, bringing her hands up to his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Daryl _still_ tasted like home. His familiar taste, soft lips, eager tongue was something she didn't think she'd ever tire from. As she kissed him, excitement swelled deep with her, the fluttering in her belly unstoppable.

"Take it," he said to her, pulling away from the kiss. She met his blue eyes with her own, sparking with excitement. "Please." There was a need there. He _wanted_ this, badly.

Beth had always dreamt about starting a family. As a girl, she'd dreamt of having a big family, maybe a farm of her own. Of course Hershel, Annette, Shawn, and Maggie would have all been there to dote on her small children. Her heart still ached for them. But the dream of having a family of her own had never faded. It had only grown more eager as her time with Daryl went on.

Beth returned to the bathroom, giggling like a little girl with Daryl on her heels. She took the test, smiling all the while, placing it at the edge of the sink. Then she sunk into Daryl's arms as they waited.

"What do you think about Maggie for a girl's name?" Daryl asked, his chin on her head.

"Daryl!" she exclaimed, looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows in question, looking for her approval. "It might not be anything," she said, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"Well, check," Daryl said eagerly. "Gotta be done by now, yeah?"

Beth turned towards the sink, her heart in her throat, not knowing what to expect. She stared at the piece of plastic that sat there. The small object could change her life, Daryl's life, the life of this community, completely.

She eased up to it, peering at it timidly, looking at the little box. She saw one line, and as she came closer, there it was. An unmistakable thin, second line. She sucked in a breath and let out a small laugh, before turning to Daryl.

His eyes were wide. "Is it?" he practically shouted. "Beth? Is it?" He looked like he could jump through the roof.

She nodded.

Daryl yelped. It was a sound she'd never heard come from his mouth before, but he didn't seem to care. He was too busy sweeping her off her feet, wrapping her a hug and kissing her all over her face. He buried his head into her neck. "I'm so happy," he whispered.

"Me too," Beth answered. "We're going to have a family."

 **The End**


End file.
